All Along the Watchtower
by iHeartYou13
Summary: Beckett is missing. Bodies are found in pairs throughout the boroughs that look like her and Castle. The team makes the connection between the two and races to find who's behind everything before Beckett is the next victim they identify...
1. Chapter 1

Alright kiddies, new story here. Came to me a few months ago and it's almost all written, chapters are being edited as I go along, so any delays will be due to that.

Reviews are love, constructive criticism included.

Rating is T/M for a reason. I would say 16 years and up, just for the nature of the story, please use discretion; I don't think it's all that graphic, but there you go.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>The room was dark. In a way, she was grateful for the darkness. It meant she didn't have to see what he had done to them. She knew they were still there, lifeless eyes staring at her through the dark, begging for help she couldn't give.<em>

_This made four. She'd been keeping count. Always keep count. Four pairs, eight people. All dead. And she'd seen all of them die. She'd seen eight lights go out, while hers burned bright._

_She'd given up the hope of getting herself out of this; there was no way out. She'd long since given up on anyone finding her. She was beginning to think that there was no point. He had said that if she just did as he said, she'd live. And so far, she was alive._

_She tried to remember all their names, but all she could see were their faces. Twisted, crying, bloody, scared, angry faces. Names meant nothing here. He didn't use hers and she didn't know his._

_The door cracked open and she closed her eyes automatically. Doing as she was told. Her eyes burned as tears welled but she didn't let them fall. He didn't blindfold her anymore, there was no need. She did as she was told._

_There was shuffling and soft grunts, wet thuds and the rustle of clothing. He was taking away the bodies._

_The door clicked shut again, never slammed, and she opened her eyes after counting to ten; eight people, four pairs. The room was dark. In a way, she was grateful for the darkness._

* * *

><p><span>ONE WEEK EARLIER - MONDAY<span>

Castle whistled as he unfolded from the cab and started up the sidewalk that led into Central Park. It was early, the sun just barely peeking over the trees of the park and warming the air.

It was a chilly March Monday morning, but Castle was pretty cheery; he'd spent the weekend churning out enough Nikki Heat chapters to get Gina off his back for a month. He'd helped Alexis figure out her top three colleges, seen his mother in one of her plays and even coerced Beckett into seeing a movie with him on Sunday afternoon.

Josh was gone, off in Tanzania and out of Beckett's life, and Castle couldn't be happier; the man had never been around and when he was, Beckett was so over-the-moon about it, it seemed unreal. And not fair; Josh had asked her to go with him on the trip. The three month long trip. Needless to say, Beckett had said no, they'd broken up, Josh had gone to Tanzania and Beckett had gone to the movies with Castle.

As he entered the park and followed the flashing lights and yellow tape, Castle thought back to the movie. They'd had a good time, laughed a lot, joked, same as usual. When they'd shared a cab back to her place, he hadn't pushed to come up but she had invited him anyway.

Granted, she changed her mind in the hallway in front of her door, but he understood, as was their usual, without words that she still needed time before they really talked about what everyone else was already talking about. So he'd kissed her cheek and left with a smile on his face.

"Good morning, Dr. Parish, you look lovely this morning," Castle greeted Lanie with flourish, offering her a bright grin.

"What's got you so cheery this morning?" Lanie questioned, looking up from the body.

"Oh, nothing; just a beautiful morning, don't you think?"

Lanie eyed him suspiciously, but then looked behind him. "So eager you left Kate in the dust?"

Castle looked behind him despite knowing the Beckett wasn't there. "What?" he turned back to the M.E.

"Kate, didn't she ride with you? You never beat her to crime scenes." Lanie said, frowning a little. It wasn't like Kate to be late.

"I'm sure she's just in traffic. She'll be grumpy when she gets here, so I think instead of offering you her coffee, I'll go put it back in the car," Castle said, starting to turn, but Lanie's smaller hand darted out and snagged the cup before he even registered her moving to stand up.

"Nuh-uh, she snoozes, she loses." Lanie took a sip and actually groaned. "Damn this is good, how come you don't bring the rest of us coffee like this, hm, Writer Boy?"

"Because he doesn't love us like he loves Beckett," Came Ryan's voice from behind them both. He and Esposito walked up with notepad and pen in hand.

"Nice, guys." Castle shook his head and turned back to the victim. "So what happened here?"

"Looks like an allergic reaction," Lanie said, pointing out the swelling and saliva around the enlarged mouth, "But I'll have to get him back to the morgue to make sure." Lanie said, taking another sip of Beckett's coffee. "Either of you two heard from Kate?" she continued after swallowing.

"She not here yet?" Esposito commented, looking around for their boss. "I haven't heard from her,"

"Guys, she's probably in traffic, you're freaking me out." Castle said, pulling out his phone.

It always made a knot form in his stomach when he thought of Beckett in danger; whether it be going out on a take-down without him or not picking up her phone after a suspect pick-up.

"See? Look," he held out his phone and a text message from Beckett sat waiting for the three of them to read.

_runnin late. see u at the precinct, please bring coffee traffics a bitch_

"Well, guess we're starting without her then. I hope you're planning on stopping for another coffee on your way to precinct, bro," Esposito said in farewell before walking off with Lanie.

* * *

><p>"Okay, vic's name is George Danes, 63. Bruising around the wrists and ankles suggest he was bound tight, but his prints got a match in the system. Brightman Psychiatric Hospital. Intensive care. Looks like he was being treated for hallucinations," Ryan read off from the folder in front of him.<p>

Upon getting back from the crime scene, Lanie had run the man's finger prints through the system and matched the set to hospital records in the area. Since then, Ryan, Esposito and Castle had compiled a small but concentrated file on the man.

George Danes had been in a car accident several years ago, resulting in brain damage. Violent hallucinations forced his only son, Fred Danes, to admit his father to the hospital where he'd been ever since. Until last night, when George somehow wandered past security and through the city only to ingest a half-eaten bag of peanuts and die from an allergic reaction.

They had spent a few hours killing time by getting any financials together to show payments to the hospital and calling for security tapes before Lanie had a chance to give them results from the autopsy.

"He was healthy, except for the hallucinations. Well fed, no signs of malnourishment or defensive wounds. Stomach contents show a meal of ham, mashed potatoes and corn around six hours before death and traces of peanuts around the time of death." Lanie reported as they stood around George Danes' body.

"So, allergic reaction. He snagged the peanuts and died," Esposito summarized.

"Looks like," Lanie concluded, pulling the sheet back up over the Y-incision.

"When you guys head back upstairs, send Kate down will you, I need to talk to her about something," Lanie said, turning to take her gloves off. Instead of an answer, she was met with silence.

She turned around slowly, eyeing each man in front of her. "What?"

"She hasn't turned up yet, actually, and we haven't heard from her either." Ryan explained slowly.

Castle frowned. Now he was worried. He pulled out his phone as the others watched and dialed Beckett's home number first.

_Hi, this is Kate, leave a message and I'll try to get back to you eventually. **Beep.**_

He shook his head and dialed again while Ryan and Esposito pulled out their phones as well.

Lanie watched and twirled the glove nervously between her fingers as the boys called every number they associated with Beckett.

"Not at home," Castle finally stated, jabbing the end button forcefully.

"Not picking up her cell," Esposito recited, still dialing and listening to pre-recorded message.

"Desk sergeant hasn't seen her yet this morning," Ryan reported, shoving his phone in his pocket.

The four exchanged glances before Esposito broke the silence. "Maybe her car broke down. You're always saying she needs a new one, bro." He tried. Castle nodded slowly, trying to force his brain to accept the story.

"Yeah, or maybe her phone just died and traffic's really bad," Ryan chimed in.

Lanie shook her head. "It's been three hours. No way she's still in traffic. Her phone is never dead, and she would rather abandon that piece of crap car and take a cab to the crime scene than leave a vic laying out in the grass while she sat bumper to bumper."

They all shared looks again before moving into action.

"I'll check her apartment," Castle said, digging out his spare key to show the other three.

"I'll keep trying her cell," Lanie said, crossing the room to wash her hands and pick up the office phone.

"I'll check with dispatch, see if they sent her to a different scene," Ryan said, already on his way out of the morgue with his phone half-way to his ear.

"Bro, I'm coming with you, just in case," Esposito said, laying a hand on Castle's shoulder before he could run for the elevator.

"What do you think we're going to find?" Castle asked with a touch of fear in his voice. His writer's imagination was conjuring up way too many unsavory possibilities for him not to be afraid.

"I don't know, but just in case something's not right."

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>Beckett's apartment looked normal.<p>

The furniture was all in order; cushions on the couch in a neat row, chairs right way up and tucked in, coffee table in line with the rug.

"It looks fine," Castle commented, moving further into the room with curiosity. There was a thin stack of mail sitting on the kitchen island, a plate with toast crumbs on it and a little smear of peanut butter, a small glass with a sliver of orange juice still in the bottom.

"Beckett?" Esposito called out, walking past the writer and further into the apartment. He went down the short hallway to her bedroom and pushed open the door.

"Castle," he called over his shoulder when he caught sight of the room.

When Castle appeared at his shoulder, the men surveyed the damage.

The duvet from Beckett's bed was stripped from the mattress and thrown to the floor in tangles, the thin blanket underneath it twisted up in the sheets and shoved to the foot of the bed. The two pillows that should have been at the head of the bed were on the floor by the door.

The lamp from her bedside table was knocked off and lay in pieces on the floor, the drawers pulled open. Her closet doors were swung open and hangars littered the floor, the safe that was usually closed and locked on the top shelf was open and a few bills littered the area underneath it.

Beckett's badge sat among the wreckage.

The window was open and the curtains blew gently in the breeze.

"Esposito?" Castle turned a worried, pale face on Esposito.

"I know, don't touch anything." the detective already had his phone to his ear, calling Montgomery.

* * *

><p>Lunchtime came and went and soon Ryan and Lanie joined Esposito and Castle at Beckett's apartment as a CSU team went through her bedroom.<p>

"Anything?" Lanie asked for the umpteenth time.

"They're dusting for prints now. I doubt Beckett leaves her window open, especially in March, so hopefully they can pick something up." Esposito said. "How'd you do with the neighbours?"

Ryan flipped open his notebook and scanned his notes. "Nothing much, they heard some banging around close to 6:30 this morning, some shouting, but they never thought to call the police. Next door neighbour didn't even know Beckett's name." Ryan reported, flipping the book shut and sighing.

"Well, what about security cameras in the lobby?" Castle suggested.

"The open window says the perp probably came in through the window and it woke Beckett up, so there won't be a shot of him coming in," Esposito said.

"What about leaving?" Lanie spoke up finally.

"What do you mean?" Ryan asked.

"Well, if this guy managed to subdue Kate, not an easy feat, its not like he could just throw her down the fire escape, he'd have to go out the front door and through the lobby," Lanie explained. At least, she hoped this nut job couldn't just throw her girl down the fire escape.

"Well, there's no blood on the window or the fire escape, so it's a possibility. I'll go talk to the super again," Ryan turned and left.

"So now what?" Lanie asked.

"Beckett sent you a text, right Castle?" Esposito turned to Castle now, who caught on and pulled out his phone, opening the message.

"Yeah, close to 7."

"If the other tenants heard all hell breaking loose at 6:30, how could she be texting you half an hour later and be fine?" Lanie asked.

"Because she didn't. Is that her number?" Esposito pressed, mentally crossing his fingers.

Castle opened the details on the incoming text and scanned the numbers. "Yeah, I think so. Hang on," he opened his contacts list and matched the numbers for sure. "Yeah, that's her cell phone. So the perp texted me from her phone."

"Wait, lemme see that," Lanie grabbed the phone without waiting for an answer. "Kate is an English Lit. texter; she hates short forms and grammatical errors. Every text I've ever gotten from her, except when she's tipsy, is always typed out perfectly. Including capitals and proper punctuation."

"So this definitely isn't Beckett texting."

Just then, Castle's phone buzzed in Lanie's hand with an incoming text. She looked down at it and nearly dropped the phone.

"What?"

"It's from Kate," she answered, not taking her eyes off her friend's picture ID.

_have u figured it out yet?_

* * *

><p>"What've we got?" Montgomery demanded as the group, minus Lanie, came back into the precinct an hour later.<p>

"Lanie's running the prints we pulled from the window at Beckett's apartment and Ryan's looking through the footage from the security tapes in the lobby. The cameras in the hallways were down for maintenance and the ones in the elevators are just for show." Esposito said.

"Reports from the neighbours put the attack around 6:30am, but there was a text sent from Beckett's phone closer to 7, so she must have been taken before then. I've got tech running down the GPS in her phone to get a location."

"Anybody see her leave the building this morning?" Montgomery asked.

Ryan walked up just then with the DVDs from the security cameras. "Just scanned through these. There's nobody coming in after midnight last night and nobody leaving until just before 7am this morning. Looks like a jogger; dark sweats and dark shoes, hood pulled up and sunglasses. Not a good shot of his face."

"Can you tell the race of the guy?" Castle asked, standing from his perch on the corner of Beckett's desk and moving over to their white board. He refused to think of it as the murder board, even in his mind.

"Tapes in black and white, so it could be tough. The doorman doesn't really remember the guy and there's no shot of him going back into the building." Ryan answered, sticking the blown up frame of the man in sweats on the white board.

The phone on Esposito's desk rang and he rushed to pick it up. "Yeah, okay, thanks Lanie,"

He hung up and turned to face the other three men. "She's got the results back from the finger prints taken from the window frame."

"And?" Castle asked eagerly, hoping it would lead to an ID.

"And, they're Beckett's."

* * *

><p>"Okay, why is there no mess in the rest of her apartment?" Castle asked. He, Ryan and Esposito were back at Beckett's apartment, lunches forgotten after hearing the prints on the window were Beckett's.<p>

"Either, the attack never made it out of her bedroom or someone cleaned it up," Ryan offered, looking around the tidy living room.

Castle motioned to the front door. "No signs of forced entry and she didn't let someone in; otherwise there would have been a struggle out here,"

"Okay, so the perp came in through the window, wearing gloves so they wouldn't leave a print." Esposito said, and they all moved to the bedroom.

"So, this guy climbs up the fire escape in the early morning. If you think about it, it's the best time to do it; he wouldn't know if Beckett was pulling an all-nighter and even if she was, she'd be more vulnerable at the early hour and before coffee." Castle started his theory.

"He opens the window and makes it in before Beckett wakes up. If she'd woken up to someone crawling through her window..." Ryan trailed off and they all pictured the ensuing death-by-bullet.

"Okay," Castle moved to stand by the window. "He comes in the window, quietly, but manages to wake her up." he tried not to picture the events unfolding as he told his story, but he couldn't help it.

"They struggle, making a mess of the room, and she somehow gets to her safe in the closet," Ryan says, moving towards the mess of the closet. Clothes and hangars still littered the floor, but the safe was closed.

"She keeps her gun in there when she's off duty and not on call, along with her badge and some spare money." Castle filled in.

Ryan and Esposito stared at him with raised eyebrows and he rolled his eyes. "She told me after her apartment blew up that she was going to do it this way, in case something happened again,"

"Sure, bro."

"Anyway," Castle changed the subject back to the matter at hand. "She gets hold of her gun, but doesn't shoot him. Why?"

They look around the room and then Ryan speaks. "There's something stopping her. Beckett's got crazy good aim, even with adrenaline or fatigue."

"So, something else, physical? Maybe he overpowered her and she couldn't get a shot off?" Castle tried.

"I don't see it, she's a grappler; no way he'd pin her for long,"

"Drugged?" Ryan said quietly after a moment of thinking.

The three men contemplated each other before Castle cleared his throat and spoke. "That makes sense; if she was impaired, she wouldn't be able to fight back well enough to break free. He probably blocked the door and-,"

"She went for the fire escape!" Esposito interrupted, "Lanie said the prints were whole palm impressions, Beckett probably went out through the window to get away."

"But there aren't any other prints, and what are the odds of Beckett letting this guy keep his gloves on?" Ryan said skeptically.

"Well, assuming she's been drugged, she wouldn't get very far, very fast; it could be the jogger in the security tapes is our perp, strolling out leisurely through the front door because he knows he can get to her on the side of the building no problem," Castle explained, looking out the window behind him.

"So the question becomes, how did he get her away from the building without anyone seeing and where did they go?"

* * *

><p>The sun was rapidly setting by the time the boys got back to the precinct to add their theory to the board. Lanie had ordered pizza and drinks and was waiting for them in the break room with the logs from Beckett's cell phone.<p>

"Anything come up?" Castle immediately asked.

"Nothing; no unexplained numbers, no strange phone calls, nothing. Same with her credit cards." Lanie answered, picking at her pizza. None of them had an appetite, but they each forced a bite.

"So, what, we're sitting here with nothing?" Castle said, leaning heavily back in his chair. He looked around at the others, noticing the looks on their faces.

He didn't want to face the possibility that Beckett was gone; the fear, the sadness, it was too much. He cared about her, so much, and to even contemplate her being gone, or hurt, was something that tore him to pieces inside.

Lanie looked stressed out and beyond worried, eyes focused on the pizza she couldn't seem to eat any more of. Ryan looked dejected and defeated, but determined and Esposito looked angry, barely suppressing an urge to hit something.

Just as the silence descending over the group started to become too much, Montgomery poked his head into the room and grabbed their attention.

"Bodies dropped, Washington Heights." he said firmly.

"Cap, you can't be serious, we need to find Beckett," Esposito started immediately, almost before the words were out of Montgomery's mouth.

"Karpowsi's catching tonight anyway," Ryan chimed in, picking off a piece of pepperoni from the slice in front of him.

"Her team already secured the crime scene. Everyone's been filled in on Beckett's disappearance, and Karpowski said there was something you should see,"

* * *

><p>The crime scene turned out to be a secluded alley behind a bookstore in Washington Heights. The sun was almost fully set and traffic was becoming gridlocked with rush hour drivers. Karpowski met them at the mouth of the alley with a grim expression and a notebook flipped open. Lanie was already moving off to examine the bodies.<p>

"What'd you get?" Esposito asked, shoving his hands into his pockets as the evening chill descended upon them.

"Two vics, one male and one female. No wallets yet. Male is cut to shreds and the female looks to have a single GSW to the chest. The bookstore owner, an Alice James, said someone was banging on the back entrance door and when she finally went to open it and tell whoever it was to go away, she found these two." the group reached the body and Castle immediately frowned. "She called 911 and paramedics showed up, but they were already gone,"

"What's wrong with this picture?" Castle asked, circling the two bodies. They were laid out next to each other, not particularly carefully, but with their hands overlapping.

"Other than the fact that there's two dead bodies in it and Beckett's still missing?" Esposito groused.

Castle circled them again and stopped at their feet, watching their faces as Lanie examined the marks on them closer. "No, come here. Look at them."

Ryan and Esposito did as Castle said and crossed the alley to stand next to him and look down at the bodies.

"I think I see what you mean," Ryan trailed off.

The man was tall and solid, wearing a dark suit and a light blue shirt with a dark, expensive looking coat, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. The woman was tall as well, slim, wearing dark jeans, heels, a light blue sweater and a black leather jacket. She had long brown hair and dark lashes that brushed pale cheeks.

"Dude, it's you and Beckett," Esposito managed. The man's eyes were still open, unseeing, and it sent a shiver down the detective's spine.

"Now you see why I called you in. Beckett goes missing and then these two show up 12 hours later? Not a coincidence." Karpowski said as she wandered over.

"They haven't been dead long. Maybe two hours. They're still warm under the clothes." Lanie said, looking up from the bodies. A CSU tech came over from the dumpsters they'd been inspecting with two sealed baggies, each with an open, empty wallet in it.

"Thanks," Ryan said, taking the baggies. "Looks like, Samuel Bright, 40 and Victoria Bright, 33; both from Inwood. No credit cards or cash left, just the licenses."

"Looks like a robbery, but their murder and Beckett's kidnapping have to be connected." Esposito said.

"Well, let's get them back to the morgue and find out how."

* * *

><p>Night had fallen and the precinct was slowly emptying. A few officers and other detectives stayed, trying to find a connection between Beckett and the Brights, lending support to the three men in the break room, going over financials again.<p>

"There's nothing here. None of the Brights phone records have Beckett's phone or the precinct. Their cards aren't used in the same place, like ever, and they're from different neighbourhoods." Ryan pushed the folders away from him, leaning back in his chair and scrubbing his hands over his face.

"There has to be something. If this is the same guy, there's a reason he picked these two." Castle insisted.

"Like what, bro? Have you ever heard Beckett talk about them? Ever seen the Brights before? Aside from the physical similarities, there's nothing."

"There has to be something." Castle said, picking up his mug to take a sip and finding it empty of coffee. He pushed up from his chair to pour himself more.

"Well, obviously Victoria Bright looks like Beckett. And Samuel Bright looks like you. Maybe that's the reason," Ryan spoke, after a long silence stretched between them.

Castle sat back down with his coffee. "I get that the woman looked like Beckett, this guy kidnapped her, but why kill a guy who looks like me?"

"That's the question, isn't it?"

Esposito's cell phone rang as soon as the words were out of his mouth and he answered quickly.

When he hung up moments later, he looked over at the other men. "That was Lanie, she found something."

"Okay, what'd you find?" Castle spoke first, pushing his way through the doors into her lab. As the minutes ticked by, he got more and more agitated, running fingers through his hair in an effort not to fiddle with things, lest it compromise the case.

Lanie sighed and rubbed the back of one wrist against her forehead, both hands still encased in gloves.

"It's hard to tell, but some of the marks on Samuel Bright's body are older than others."

"What's that mean?" Castle asked, nearly interrupting her.

Lanie shot him a look. "Not significantly older, but they're all in various stages of clotting and healing. A few have started to scab a little. The oldest ones are from hours ago, not more that 24. The newest from around his time of death."

"Sounds like torture. Being cut on for hours?" Esposito said lowly, crossing his arms.

Castle's mind immediately went to Beckett, his Beckett, being subjected to the same torture. Smooth skin marred by slices that would turn to scars, blood seeping, skin paling. It was an image he didn't need but couldn't shake.

When Lanie turned to Victoria Bright's body, he flashed on Beckett laying there, sheet covering pale, lifeless skin, eyes closed in death. This needed to stop. Castle needed to find her.

"This poor woman died the same time as her man here. No obvious marks on her anywhere."

"Except for the hole in her chest," Ryan said dully.

"Made by a .45 calibre bullet. Through and through, I'd say close range. Traces of salt on her cheeks. Tears." Lanie said quietly.

The four of them observed the pair on the slabs quietly, the weight of their injuries and implication behind what had happened hunching their shoulders.

"Anything else?" Esposito said gruffly.

"Just this," Lanie held up a small baggie with a few strands of long, dark hair in it.

"Hair?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah," Lanie licked her lips. "One had the root still attached so I ran the DNA. It's Kate's."

* * *

><p>Castle's keys hit the lock at exactly 11:30 that night. The boys and Lanie had finally decided they needed to start over fresh in the morning and had convinced Castle to do the same. Not an easy task and one they were hoping to give back to Beckett when they found her.<p>

When, not if. None of them could even think about that.

"Dad? Where have you been? I've been texting and calling all night," Alexis greeted him worriedly at the door. She was in pajamas and had a mug of hot chocolate but looked wide awake.

"Sorry, pumpkin, I guess I had my phone off."

Something in his voice tipped Alexis off that something was wrong. Though he tried to hide it, Castle knew his daughter was too perceptive for her own good sometimes. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Well," He didn't want to tell her. He didn't want to tell Alexis that Beckett was missing, that two bodies had turned up looking like the detective and himself, that he missed Beckett like one of his arms was gone or that it hurt like a physical ache.

"What's happened? Did something happen at the precinct? Are you alright? Is Detective Beckett alright?"

Castle held up a hand and dropped it on his daughter's shoulders to stop her barrage of questions.

He waited a moment, took a breath, swallowed the tears already pricking at the back of his eyes.

"Beckett, she, she's missing. We figured it out this morning," he said quietly.

Alexis stared at him carefully, as if trying to determine if he was telling the truth, before she backed up slowly and sat on the couch. "Missing? Missing as in ran away with a guy or as in took an impromptu vacation and didn't tell anyone or as in..." she trailed off, carefully setting her mug down.

"As in, kidnapped." Castle filled in, dropping heavily onto the couch next to Alexis and pulling her close against him.

"And you don't know who did it? Or why?" she sounded scared, like she was eight years old again and afraid he wouldn't come home from one of those early book signings.

"We'll figure it out. We always do. We'll find her and bring her home."

* * *

><p>Alright. First chapter down. How was it?<p>

I realize as I'm editing and posting that I have lots of line breaks...hopefully the flow isn't messed up too much!

Reviews are love!

:)


	2. Chapter 2

um, wow, thanks so much for all the alerts! and thanks to all those that reviewed! Reviews and feedback really do make all the difference :)

also, I realize I didn't do a disclaimer or anything last chapter. I don't own Castle or anything, obviously, and there aren't spoilers for any seasons currently aired or airing.

enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>TUESDAY<span>

It was dark. Kate didn't know how much time had passed;

Since he'd climbed through her window, since he'd injected her with something, since she'd fled out the window and been met at the bottom of the fire escape as the world tilted crazily.

Since she'd woken up handcuffed to a ring attached to a chain hanging from the ceiling, slumped on the cold cement floor.

Since he'd brought in those people.

Kate swallowed thickly and tugged at her restraints again. They didn't budge. There was still blood pooled directly across from her. The room was small, a cold, grey square; there were no windows, her chain and the door. It was frustratingly out of reach.

He'd brought them in, one by one, a man and a woman, both sluggish and disoriented. It hadn't taken more than a few moments for her to realize they resembled herself and Castle. A hard, cold, pit of fear had slid into her stomach the same moment something hot and angry had brought tears to her eyes.

But she hadn't let them fall. She'd questioned him, even as he laid out his victims in front of her, pulling out needles and depressing clear contents into first one, then the other.

And then he'd brought out the scalpel. Or rather, scalpels plural. The fear had won out over the anger and her voice had frozen in her throat.

Then he'd started to talk. The things he said, about these poor people, about her, about Castle. What he was doing to them.

Kate closed her eyes as his words seemed to ring through the space around her, echoing loudly in her ears even though she knew logically he was gone.

He'd spoken the whole time he'd cut into the man's skin. The poor man had pleaded, with slurred words, had yelled and cried. Suffered. The woman had cried hysterically, trying to move, trying to get to this man that obviously meant so much to her.

Kate had watched silently at first, shocked into paralysis, as blood began to trickle and then flow from slice after slice. After a while, the man would stop and look at Kate, whisper cruel things to her about how this was her fault.

And then the anger had returned with a vengeance. She'd tugged at the cuffs so hard her fingers turned warm and sticky with blood. Her wrists stung and throbbed now at the memory and she could feel the blood caked under her fingernails.

It felt like days before the man stopped crying, stopped bleeding, stopped breathing. Stopped living.

The woman was so pale she looked dead herself, whatever cocktail she'd been given wearing off enough for her to crawl closer to her man. The bullet to her heart stopped her progress and made Kate's ears ring.

The man had put the gun back in his pocket and turned to Kate, smiled, actually smiled, as tears streamed down her face, and reached out to hold her face in one of his hands.

"See what happens when people get in the way? Make sure you remember their names now."

"Fuck. You." It hadn't sounded nearly as strong as she'd wanted it to.

"We'll see." he'd said, before undoing her restraints and backing away.

She'd been torn between running for the door, for the amused man or to the couple laying on the floor, bleeding. She'd thrown herself towards the couple first, pressing on wounds and feeing for a pulse before turning to the woman and doing the same.

The man had let her go on for a few moments before taking the three steps towards her and pulling her back by her hair and pushing her against the wall and her chains.

He'd pulled out another needle. She remembered trying to wriggle away from his grasp, but there was nowhere to go.

And as she'd slid into chemical darkness, he'd whispered two names. Told her to remember.

Sam and Tori Bright. One pair, two people.

So here she sat now, still groggy and still in darkness, although this was from a blindfold and not a needle. They must have put it on her while she was out.

The door slid open and heavy footsteps came in. They stopped in front of her before she heard the shuffling of someone kneeling before her and a large hand gripping her jaw.

"Are you going to be good girl and walk or do I have to drug and drag you? One will hurt less than the other." His voice wasn't completely malicious, just firm.

Kate swallowed and licked her dry lips. Whatever they kept giving her was making her beyond thirsty.

As if summoned by thought, a cool metal surface met her lips and cold water sloshed against her mouth. She opened after a moment's hesitation and drank the water until only a drop rolled out of the cup.

"Better? Will you be good and not fight me now?"

It sounded like a test, one designed and thought out and she felt as if she were being trained for something. But her head hurt and her wrists hurt and her legs ached for movement and she really needed to use the bathroom.

She nodded.

* * *

><p>"Where are we?" Castle said as soon as he arrived in the precinct at exactly 7am.<p>

"Same place we were yesterday. Nowhere." Esposito threw down the folder in his hands and scrubbed hands over his tired face.

"Well, Lanie said she found traces of some kind of sedative in the Brights' systems, so that's something," Ryan pointed out, trying to be optimistic.

Castle slumped into his chair and turned to face Ryan and shared a look and all silently agreed it really wasn't very much to go on. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to reveal Lanie, who looked just as tired as the rest of them but carrying a folder with a determined stride.

"Lanie, you found something?" Castle hoped, ready to jump up from the chair.

"Maybe. The chemical compound in their bloodstreams weren't in the medical database, and I've never come across anything like it; it's a cocktail of sorts. Sedatives and muscle relaxants mostly."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Ryan pointed out the obvious.

"Very. Mixing medications is never a good idea, but this guy's doing it anyway. And doing it well. Those two did not die from the injection and don't show any signs of side effects from it. Granted, we didn't exactly get to see if they were disoriented or hallucinating," Lanie trailed off.

"Do you think this is the same thing he used on Beckett?" Esposito asked after a moment.

Lanie really didn't want to think about something this dangerous being used on her best friend, her sister, but it wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibility. "Could be. You think she was drugged too?"

"Do you see this guy getting her out of the apartment without ruining the rest of her apartment any other way?" Castle asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Right." Lanie nodded once, choosing to accept the fact that her girl had been drugged with professional disgust rather than personal fear. "Also, the particulates found on their clothes were mostly from the alley, nothing too specific to tell us where they were killed."

None of them voiced the rest of the sentence, which was 'or where Kate is'.

"Okay. So, first we need to bring in the next of kin. Samuel's sister Maggie Winslow and Victoria's father Jack Spencer." Esposito said. "I'll pick up the sister, Ryan you find the father."

They detectives grabbed their jackets and stood, preparing to leave. Castle stood too, before realizing that he hadn't been giving a direction. "Wait, what about me?"

The boys exchanged a look. "Look, Castle, we know you want to help, but-,"

"But nothing. I'm either going with one of you or I'm finding something else to do. Which would you rather?"

Lanie piped up. "This guy's targeting both of you, right? Samuel and Victoria look like you and Kate. If he was just after her, Samuel wouldn't be there. Why don't you get on your fan sites and social networking accounts and see if anyone's talking or taking credit?"

"Sounds like a plan. You do not follow any leads you come across without telling us, you hear me bro?" Esposito pointed firmly at Castle, who raised his hands and sat at Beckett's desk, adjusting her chair.

In that small gesture, the four of them stopped, looked down at the chair. If Beckett were here, Castle would be twisting in pain as Kate pinched his ear by now. Her absence was starting to feel like a physical thing.

Ryan recovered first and cleared his throat. "Okay, let's go."

* * *

><p>Three hours searching his fan sites and Twitter and Facebook accounts and Castle had found nothing; the only subjects ranged from his books to his social and love life. Nobody mentioned Beckett by name, except those following it closely by 'muse' or 'girlfriend'.<p>

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair again. Ryan and Esposito had come back with the families of the victims an hour ago and were currently talking to them separately.

A hand appeared with a cup of coffee, breaking Castle's concentration and he started before realizing the dark skin wasn't Beckett's.

"Sorry, writer boy." Lanie said, setting the cup down in front of him. "Just taking a break."

Castle sighed again and forced a smile before taking the cup, sipping carefully at the hot liquid.

"How's it going up here?" She asked, motioning with her head to the computer screen. Her own coffee came up to her mouth and she sipped.

"Slow. So slow, it's stopped moving. There's nothing here. It was a long shot anyway, but I still hoped for something. Anything," Castle admitted.

"I keep thinking she's just gonna come through those elevator doors, walking tall in those heels, having saved herself. I forget she's not actually invincible."

Castle smirked a little. "I have the same thought. She just seems so, indomitable."

"She's good at that," Lanie commented quietly. "Castle, tell me she's gonna be okay, that we're gonna find her."

Castle reached over and squeezed one of Lanie's hands. "We'll find her. We have to."

They both knew he hadn't just forgot to say that Beckett would be fine; there was a very real possibility she wouldn't be.

* * *

><p>The boys came out of the conference rooms an hour later, armed with some information.<p>

"Tori and Sam Bright were married two years. He's been married three times and has two kids, both in high school, and she's never been married. No kids. They met at work, which is a law firm upstate and were dating for three years before they tied the knot." Ryan gave the background info as he settled into his desk and started pulling up the financial records of the Brights.

"Neither family member can think of anyone who would want to hurt either of them; the three ex-wives have all supposedly moved on, in three different states, and neither are very high up in the office." Esposito said.

"Any connection to Beckett?" Castle asked.

"None. Both Jack Spencer and Maggie Winslow said they'd never seen or heard of Beckett before today. Neither Sam or Tori has been arrested or done jury duty or been a witness. Far as I know, Beckett's never been to the law firm upstate."

"So, there's nothing tying them together except the look alike factor," Lanie summarized.

"Pretty much. Mr. Spencer said his daughter and Sam were going out to a show at the local community centre, they were both active members."

"There weren't any tickets or pamphlets on them when they were found," Lanie pointed out. "Maybe they didn't make it to the show,"

"Well, anything they did yesterday, they paid cash for. There aren't any credit card purchases after Saturday morning. A few debit transactions, a small withdrawal, $60, and then they were dead." Ryan said from his place sorting through the financials.

"Anything in the phone logs?" Castle asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Nothing, no calls after 8:32 on Sunday night. No calls to the precinct, Beckett's numbers, nothing."

They were just repeating information now, going over what they already knew. Which wasn't much.

"So now what do we do?" Lanie asked. Her coffee finished, she dropped it into the garbage can under Beckett's desk.

"We question any other friends or family who had any motive." Esposito said.

"Uh, that might be difficult." Ryan said from his desk.

"Why?"

"Well, Sam's sister Maggie and father Gerry are the only family he has and Tori has her father and a brother, Steven, who's teaching abroad in Europe. That's it. Any friends are from the law firm, according to the families, and the only extracurriculars they did involved the community centre. They were involved mostly behind the scenes."

"So, they were private people," Lanie said, sliding a look to Castle.

"Basically, square one."

"Pretty much."

Lunch came in the form of Montgomery bringing Chinese food and forcing them to take a break.

"We need to do more." Castle announced over his plate of food.

"Like what, bro? There's no connection between Beckett and the Brights. No more contact from the kidnapper. No credit for the murders being claimed. No solid evidence that they're even connected." Esposito said sharply.

He'd been thinking the same thing all morning. Beckett was like his sister, he was barely containing himself and forcing himself to work this right. She'd be proud of him. Esposito knew full well that after 24 hours, things usually went downhill. Beckett's 24 hours were up.

He also knew that Castle wasn't trained to handle this, someone they cared about being taken.

"Well, we need to do better." Castle bit off. He was getting mad now, the fear falling away into solid angry.

"See, what I'm hearing is 'you' need to do better. As in, my partner and I." Ryan said. Their nerves were all fraying here and while he was usually the cool headed one, he hadn't slept well the night before. Any sense of playing neutral and cooling off an argument was gone.

"Well maybe you should be doing more," Castle snapped.

Silence fell over the room as all three men bit their tongues.

Castle broke the quiet first. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

Esposito shook his head. "I know bro, but you need to go home. Get some sleep. We're all too close to this, but you," he trailed off.

"Me, what?"

"As bad as it is, we were trained for this. You keep a cool head and do as you normally would when one of your own goes missing. The whole precinct is on this, Castle, and we're going to find her."

Castle scrubbed a hand over his face again and pushed his plate away.

"Fine, fine. I'll go home and look over the phone and financial records again. I can't mess that up, right?"

Forgiveness was wordlessly exchanged as Ryan slid the folder across the table to Castle.

"We'll call when we find something,"

"You better."

* * *

><p>Afternoon bled into evening and then into night.<p>

Castle had spent hours poring over the records, crime scene photos, pictures of Beckett's apartment, the results of the toxicology test run by Lanie. Nothing.

Usually by now something jumped out at him, some wild theory or a case-breaking thought. But everything was quiet. Even the apartment was silent.

Martha was out at a play with some friends and Alexis was out with Ashley at a music festival.

Castle closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the couch. He had nothing left; no energy, no ideas, nothing. He hadn't slept the night before at all and the stress and fear and anxiety and anger was starting to get to him. He needed her, he realized, needed her so much.

With great effort, he pulled himself off the couch and forced his feet into the kitchen, pulled down a bowl and the cereal.

And then his cell phone rang.

University Heights. A couple found murdered. Male is tall, solid, dark hair, blue eyes, nice suit. Female is tall, slim, dark hair, hazel eyes, heels.

* * *

><p>As soon as he gets there, adrenaline is fully circling his system. Ryan and Esposito are already on the scene, having been called in by the detectives who caught it from the 52nd precinct. It technically wasn't their jurisdiction, but the detectives gladly handed the case over when they realized it was connected to the missing detective from the 12th.<p>

"So?" Castle asked breathlessly. Lanie was already crouched tiredly over the bodies, posed the same way Sam and Tori Bright were. The resemblance between the Brights, and in turn Beckett and himself was startling.

"Same as the Brights. Wallets, cash and cards gone, only driver's licenses left behind. Jack Young, 31, and Sydney Logan, 39. No rings, so we're assuming they're not married. The guy didn't take the rings from the Brights." Ryan reported, watching Castle carefully.

"Cause of death?"

"Same as the Brights; Jack Young from blood loss, Sydney Logan from a GSW to the chest, through and through. Both have injection sites. Both are still relatively warm. Dead maybe two hours." Lanie answered from her place by the victims.

"Four bodies in 24 hours. Two of them look like Beckett, but there's no sign of her and two of them look like me, but nobody's coming after me. What's the motive here?" Castle paced and ran a hand through his hair in a now familiar gesture.

"Not to mention the locations. Two different boroughs; first Manhattan and now the Bronx? Where does that put our perp's comfort zone?" Esposito huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Maybe these two will give us more clues than the other two." Lanie said.

Within minutes, CSU was photographing the bodies one last time before they were lifted into body bags and into the truck.

* * *

><p>Beckett tried to breathe evenly. The man had left a while ago, with the bodies, but she couldn't breathe. This man had suffered like the last, this woman had cried like the last. The room smelled like blood again, thicker than before, and she wished the blindfold was back over her eyes so she wouldn't have to see it pooling across from her.<p>

He'd cut into him, Jack Young, remember the names, and he'd done it just as slow as he'd done to Sam Bright.

After she'd been unbound from the cuffs and the blindfold was still secure, she'd been led by the arm down a short, echoing hallway and into a small bathroom. He had uncuffed and then re-bound Beckett's hands in front of her, and left the blindfold on. The door shutting sounded like the stalls in public bathrooms...

She'd used the bathroom and he'd washed her hands, dried them carefully. And then a twist...

The heavy footsteps retreated and the door opened and closed. Lighter footsteps came closer and smaller, softer hands pulled up her sleeve and pressed a needle to her arm. The small hands maneuvered her old clothes off and new ones on with efficiency and decency. It was strange.

Beckett knew her clothes were probably ruined, the leggings and long sleeved shirt she'd worn to bed dirty and covered in sweat and blood from her chapped wrists. The clothes the small hands put on her were light, more leggings, a sweater. No socks though, no shoes. No running, at least not without some pain.

She wanted to revolt, to refuse them because, hello, kidnapper, but why not take them? It would keep her warmer and stop her from catching a chill...

The small hands had helped her, more like dragged her after the cocktail kicked in, back to the room where she was chained again.

It was then, as the cuffs closed once again on her wrists, that she'd pictured Castle's face. She'd thought it was strange, thinking of him now, through all this, but it made her feel better. Gave her something to focus on. Something positive and bright.

She didn't notice there were other people there until there was a muffled cry of fear.

Then the blindfold came off.

Two more. Two more lay there, waiting, tears rolling down their flushed faces. She, helpless to rescue them.

Then he'd come back. He had black hair and piercing blue eyes, a hint of stubble and perfect cheekbones. He was gorgeous, she'd morbidly admitted to herself.

And he had his scalpel.

This time she pleaded with him before the words froze in her throat. He'd turned to her, holding the scalpel close to her skin, threatening her, before turning back to his other victims.

And he'd started the day off with slice after slice after slice. Word after sentence after paragraph tumbling from his lips as easy as breath from his lungs. They made the woman cry harder, made Beckett's vision blur and her eyes burn.

Jack Young and Sydney Logan. Remember them. Follow the rules.

What Beckett knew in reality, and from the previous day's experience, was actually hours seemed like days as the torture went on. Finally he stopped. Jack had stopped crying out, stopped bleeding, stopped breathing, stopped living.

Beckett saw the gun come out and she squeezed her eyes shut, tears sliding down her cheeks to join the countless drops absorbed into her sweater, as the trigger was pulled, the woman's screams stopping mid-breath.

Blindfold. Darkness. Needle.

Two pairs, four people. Keep count. Sam and Tori Bright. Jack Young and Sydney Logan. Castle...

* * *

><p>the plot thickens...<p>

reviews are love!

:)


	3. Chapter 3

wow thanks so much for all the reviews and alerts!

a great theory came up in the reviews, someone thought the mystery man/murder with the scalpel is josh; thoughts? ;)

enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>WEDNESDAY<span>

It wasn't until just after dawn that Lanie finally closed her eyes, head resting on her folded arms on her desk. She'd been up all night doing the autopsies on Jack Young and Sydney Logan and was now waiting for the results from her tests.

It didn't take long, though, for her to get caught up in a nightmare. Images of Kate lying on her autopsy table, waiting to be cut open. Skin pale in death, eyes blue and bruised. Cuts and slices all over her body and a gaping hole in her chest where a bullet had exploded her heart.

Lanie woke with a start when her computer beeped. She took a deep, shuddering breath and swiped at her cheeks, fingers coming away wet with tears. She glanced over at the autopsy tables and saw only Jack and Sydney, not her best friend.

She closed her eyes and pressed the heels of her palms into her eyelids, hoping to force the images away, before taking another steadying breath and opening the results.

* * *

><p>"What'd you find?" Esposito asked the moment he, Ryan and Castle hit the morgue a few hours later.<p>

"Tox screen is just like the other victims, blood alcohol was zero, so no drinking. There weren't any foreign prints on either of them and particulates are specific to walking down any street in New York City, essentially."

"Can you narrow down the particulates at all?" Ryan asked.

"Nothing useful, just that they had walked through a park, based on the stuff on their shoes, maybe went down to the docks from the water on them, but that's it. Nothing that suggests a specific location."

"Anything else?" Castle asked hopefully, begging with his eyes for her to pull something magical out of the manila folder in her hands.

"Well, there were traces of paint chips on both sets of victims. Faint traces, residue, could have been painting their own places and got it on themselves," Lanie hurried to point out before the boys could get too hopeful. She'd already been through that earlier.

"Are the paint chips the same?" Castle asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are the paint traces the same? Same colour or type or a specialty mix, anything like that?"

Lanie checked her results and bit her lip. "I can't be sure. Looks like a more expensive brand if the techs got it right, but as for colour? No way to tell."

"So we still have nothing. Four people dead, Beckett missing and we still have nothing." Esposito said angrily, clenching his fists.

Lanie came around the slab and laid a gloved hand over his trembling fists. "We'll find her. And the monster who did this."

"She's like my sister. We need to find her." he replied softly, not looking at anyone. Ryan laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling the same way.

Castle stayed back, not quite sure what to do. There was no way he thought of Beckett as his sister, no way at all. But without her here, knowing she was in danger...

She was family, whether she was ready to admit to it or not. He loved her, whether she was ready to hear it or not. They needed to find her. he didn't think he'd be able to to handle it if they didn't.

* * *

><p>Beckett tried to breathe evenly as the man cut into his next victim. The poor man screamed, the woman he'd been brought in with was crying and pulling on her restraints. Beckett didn't bother.<p>

Her wrists were sore and aching, crusted with blood. Her arms alternated between being numb and on fire, the change happening so swiftly it stole her breath. Her shoulders screamed and her neck and back felt like they were misaligning one vertebrae at a time. Her mouth was dry and her throat parched and tired from begging, from yelling, from crying.

Her legs felt like jelly, from not being used and her feet were cold.

She tried to focus on her aching body instead of the one being sliced into not four feet from her, but his screams still penetrated the self-induced fog.

And the attacker spoke, still, in an almost soothing voice, one that threatened to lull her and sent shivers down her spine simultaneously. He didn't flinch when blood spurted up to splatter warmly on his face and didn't waiver when the woman cried or pleaded.

Beckett was giving up. He'd been at it for hours now, it felt like. Nobody was coming for her.

Ryan and Esposito, while great detectives, weren't going to figure out where she was. Castle wasn't going to come up with some crazy theory and find her on some wild tangent. Lanie wasn't going to find some key piece of evidence and save the day. She was alone. And she was going to stay that way.

Finally,_ finally_, the man died, and the gun cocked and fired, the smell of blood thickly filling the air as it spilled from both bodies. Beckett slumped back against the wall and waited, almost welcoming the needle the man pulled out from his pocket.

But this time he paused in front of her, the scalpel in this other hand still dripping with blood, the gun poking out of his front pocket.

Beckett didn't meet his gaze, just stared at the opposite wall. She wasn't going to escape, couldn't run on her numb feet anyway. He had a gun, a scalpel, a needle and presumably an accomplice. She was restrained with no way of getting free. What was the point?

This time there was no voice telling her to stay strong or to fight for the victim. Or herself. There was only quiet, filled just barely by the sounds of their breathing.

"You know, I think you've caught on. Why don't we save this for later, hm?" he slipped a cap back on the needle and clicked it into place, sliding it back into his pocket. A smooth hand reached out and gripped her chin, tugging gently, but insistently, so she had to look up at him.

"Done fighting now? You're going to give yourself scars, darling." he taunted quietly, reaching back into his pocket for a single key. Beckett knew it was for the handcuffs keeping her chained to wall and briefly considered lunging for the gun, but the spark died even before the man released her chin and reached around her.

He unsnapped the cuffs and took hold of either side of her sweater, pulling it up and over her head. Her hair caught in the zipper and tugged painfully, but she didn't say anything.

The man didn't remove anything else, and instead pressed a kiss to her forehead before reaching around to refasten the handcuffs. He rose and left with the sweater and without another word.

Moments later, Beckett, who was left without a blindfold now, glanced up as another person came in.

It was a woman, tall, with naturally sunny blonde hair and big, round blue eyes. She was pale and looked fragile, with small hands and slim limbs.

The woman spared Beckett a glance, one filled with what seemed to be jealousy and hatred and admiration all at once before taking hold of the dead woman's arms and hauling her out into the hallway. Came back and did the same with the man, struggling under his weight.

When she came back, she had another sweater in her arms and advanced on Beckett. This one had no zipper and looked large, like it belonged to a man. The woman slipped it over Beckett's head carefully and she realized this woman must have been the one to dress her before.

The realization came to a sudden halt, however, when the sweater was worked over her face.

The material held a scent, one familiar and overwhelming and comforting, one that made her want to cry. It was a sweater given to her one rainy night, after she'd left her jacket in a cab, one she kept hanging in her closet, meaning to return it but always forgetting; it smelled like Old Spice and soap and coffee.

It smelled like Castle.

* * *

><p>"Anything?" Montgomery asked. The bullpen was dark and near empty, the only exceptions being Ryan, Esposito and Castle, who were hunched around the murder board.<p>

"Nothing," Ryan answered on a heavy sigh. He brought a thumb up to his mouth and worried the nail there.

"No connection between the Brights and Beckett, nothing between Jack Young and Sydney Logan and the Brights and nothing between Beckett, Young and Logan. Aside from the fact they all look like her and Castle," Esposito said.

"The only other connection is the chemical substance in their bloodstreams." Castle piped up, a picture of Beckett in his hand.

Before Montgomery could speak again, the phone on Ryan's desk rang. The four men glanced at the phone and then at each other before Ryan went to answer it.

Upon hanging up, he faced the others with a grim expression. "Two more bodies."

* * *

><p>"Gabrielle Adams and Ben Allan." Esposito read from the wallets in the plastic baggies a CSU tech had handed him. They'd made the trip to Brooklyn this time, the sun long set. The man, once again, looked like Castle and the woman looked like Beckett.<p>

Something was different this time though.

"Weren't the others more, dressed up?" Castle pointed out.

Esposito and Ryan both stopped what they were doing and looked down at the pair.

"I don't know bro, Ben Allan looks pretty fancy," Esposito pointed out the well-tailored jeans and expensive looking jacket and shoes.

"What about her though, the shoes are right, the pants, blouse, but then a sweater?" Ryan crouched by the woman, Gabrielle, and touched the fabric with his gloved hand. "The blood hasn't soaked all the way through it. And there's no hole,"

"Meaning it was put on her after she was shot."

Lanie crouched over Gabrielle Adams now and touched a darker patch on the side of the sweater. The spot was fading into the material, like a spill that was drying. She pulled out her equipment and took a quick swab before it was completely absorbed and tucked it away.

"What's that?" Castle asked.

"Not sure, looks like some kind of fluid. Not blood," She said.

"Well, let's get them back to the morgue and call next of kin."

* * *

><p>alright, this chapter is short, so look for thursday coming up right away to make up for it :)<p>

reviews are love!


	4. Chapter 4

alright here's chapter four, things are starting to get serious!

more clues ahead!

enjoy :)

* * *

><p><span>THURSDAY<span>

"This _can't_ be right." Esposito groaned the following morning. He'd spent the night on the couch in Lanie's office while she ran her tests at top speed, while Ryan and Castle were told to go home and get some sleep. Tonight, if this wasn't solved, he and Lanie would sleep and the other two would keep working.

"What?" Ryan asked. The sun was just up and all had a tall cup of coffee in their hands, the next of kin for their most recent two victims had already been interviewed.

"There's nothing. No connection. Not only to Beckett or Castle, or to the other victims, but to _each other._ Gabrielle Adams and Ben Allan didn't know each other. Their families hadn't heard of each other. Allan was married with a kid upstate and Adams had a long-time boyfriend."

Castle scrubbed his hands over his face. "So, still nothing. This is going nowhere," he said defeatedly.

"Maybe not," Lanie held up her contribution, the results from the last two autopsies.

"What do you have?"

"The same as the others, same chemical compounds in their systems, Allan died from blood loss and Adams from the GSW. Now, the sweater Gabrielle Adams was wearing is a different story."

"How so?" Castle asked, taking a gulp from his coffee. While he had gone home to sleep last night and to placate Alexis, who was growing irritable and anxious, he hadn't actually gotten much rest.

"The stain on the right side? Tears. Sweat. More paint chips, but that's not important."

"Could you get DNA from the tears and sweat?" Esposito asked, cautiously allowing himself to hope.

Lanie smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah,"

"And?" Ryan pressured, leaning forward as if it would help him hear better.

"At first I didn't think it was anything, since tears and sweat are just secretions, no DNA, but if the tears had run down a person's face, epithelial cells might be contained inside, giving us DNA. Same with the sweat."

"So?" Castle waved her on.

"So, I ran the samples, found traces of epithelial tissues and ran them through our database. They're from Kate. She was wearing that sweatshirt before it was put on Gabrielle Adams."

Castle didn't know how he felt about this new piece of information. On the one hand, they knew Beckett was still alive. She was with these victims. She was conscious. On the other, she was crying. Sweating. Scared, alone, and being dressed and undressed by whoever was killing these people.

"Any luck with the paint chips?"

"Oil based paint. Big with artists in the Village. Can't get much more than that," Lanie answered.

"Okay. What about the chemicals in the blood? Is there anyway we can trace it to a manufacturer?"

Lanie couldn't remember if Esposito had asked the question before but answered anyway. "We could try; whoever is doing this is incredibly talented. The injection sites are clean, so they weren't stabbed during an altercation. The compound itself doesn't seem to do any damage, but that can't be known for sure."

"I'll start looking up chemical researchers," Ryan said, moving off to his desk.

"I'll hit the fan sites again, see if anyone's saying anything," Castle volunteered, taking a seat at Beckett's desk. He hesitated before adjusting the chair and powering up her computer.

"You guys get some rest, we'll let you know if we find anything." he continued, talking to Lanie and Esposito.

* * *

><p>They didn't blindfold her anymore. She almost wished they would. The next victims had been brought in and were slumped unceremoniously in the corner. The bloodstains were caking into the floor and the metallic tang of it almost didn't register with her anymore.<p>

The man breathed deeply under the medication, his dark brown hair messed up from the trip. He had on a brown leather jacket and dark jeans with black boots. He had a strong jaw and Beckett would bet money his eyes were blue, like Castle's.

The woman slumped down with her neck at an odd angle, dark brown hair falling partially over her face. It was almost like looking in a mirror for her. Heeled boots, jeans, blouse, black jacket. Her.

As soon as the pair started getting restless, the effects of the needles wearing off, the door slid open and the man walked in. Beckett didn't say anything this time. Pleading would get her nowhere. Begging was useless. Screams fell on deaf ears. Threats were waved away. Reasoning and negotiating got nothing.

So she watched, unmoving, as the man shifted them into position and started his work. Her mind went blank and Beckett forced herself to think she was anywhere else but here. Eventually, the man's cries were drowned out and she was completely gone, staring at the gray wall and oblivious to the tears dripping down her cheeks and falling off her chin as her head tilted to the right.

* * *

><p>Castle sighed heavily in frustration and shoved the keyboard away from him. He'd been at this for what felt like hours, checking and rechecking fan sites, poring over the news reports from the last few days and even alternating looking over their previous notes and watching Ryan jotting down name after name of chemical researchers.<p>

"You okay there Castle?" Ryan asked, looking up from his computer.

Castle just shot him a look and the detective held up his hands. "Anything on your end?"

"It's a pretty long list, but I narrowed it down to a list of twenty two based on age and location in the US."

"So who's left?"

"Most are professors or researchers, a few work in pharmacies and a few with the FDA. I based the search on individuals with the education, money and resources to manufacture something like this. It's slow going, and there are a surprising number of candidates, but I'm working on it."

"Sounds good. We should take a break. Eat something."

They didn't get the chance.

Esposito came running into the bullpen, not stopping until he was in front of his computer, typing furiously. "You have to see this." his face was tight and angry, but controlled. Lanie came in hurriedly after him.

"I checked my work e-mail for the results on the secondary tox screen and found this," Lanie explained, slightly out of breath from running to keep up with Esposito.

The e-mail itself was empty, the sender was a non-descriptive address, probably one already deleted, but there was an attachment. Esposito clicked it open and leaned back so that Ryan and Castle could see what was opening on the screen.

It was a video. Someone was holding a camera aimed at a small, grey door. There was no sound, but the image was crisp and clear, details standing out sharply. A small pale hand, with short nails and no freckles or identifying marks, and pulled open the door smoothly.

As the camera moved around the doorframe, a man came into view from the back, his face turned away from the camera. His hands, and his scalpel, were in plain view. As was the torn and bloody flesh of another victim. They couldn't hear him, but they could see the man's mouth open in screams.

The camera turned to the gray floor and slid over to the boots of another person, climbing up the legs until the crying woman's face came into view, tears tracking down red cheeks from bloodshot eyes.

The frame stayed there for another moment before sliding over along gray walls to a chain dangling down out of the shot. The camera tilted slowly until a familiar head of brown hair came into view.

Beckett was alive. Chained to a wall and more than a little disheveled but alive. The camera slid down until it was level with Beckett's face and they figured the person behind the camera must be crouching. Her gaze remained fixed over the person's shoulder, head tilted to the right, tears sliding in endless streams down her pale cheeks. But her expression was blank.

She wasn't trying to escape, wasn't yelling or screaming, wasn't moving.

"Why isn't she moving? What's wrong with her?" Castle asked, not able to take his eyes off Beckett.

The pale hand came back into view again, this time the other hand, and the fingers curled under Beckett's chin, pulling her face to the camera head on. Her eyes slid into focus on the lens and her face crumbled a little before she squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head away to the right again, away from the hand holding her.

"Jesus," Ryan muttered.

The screen froze on Beckett's face and then cut out, the video over.

They stood in silence before Esposito swallowed audibly and closed the video.

"She looks," Castle trailed off. Lanie, even having seen it before, turned and walked quickly to the women's room, hand over her mouth.

Ryan scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed, mentally shook himself. "Okay. What do we notice about the video. No windows."

"Female and male working together," Esposito continued.

"She's not going to last much longer in there," Castle whispered.

They let the statement hang between them all before Castle continued. "The one behind the camera, the woman, she's wearing a ring. The man's wearing a watch."

Esposito re-opened the video and went through the shots of the two suspects hands frame by frame and took screen captures.

"Looks like they have the same engraving. Both expensive; maybe a family emblem or something?" Ryan said, magnifying the ring on the woman's hand.

* * *

><p>Sam and Victoria Bright. Jack Young and Sydney Logan. Gabrielle Adams and Ben Allan. Jennifer Hale and Henry Jackson. These last two had looked so young, maybe 20 years old? They'd had their whole lives ahead of them. The girl had lost her voice screaming.<p>

She figured it must be getting close to the end of the day. The pattern was regular now, more apparent. Bodies going out meant night. A few hours of semi-peace, and then new bodies came in. And the the cutting. The cutting and the screaming, now a video camera. She couldn't bring herself to wonder, let alone ask, what the video was for. Where it was going. Who was seeing it.

The cuts and scrapes on her wrists ached, but she didn't register it. Her shoulders throbbed, but she didn't notice. Everything was gray, and graying around the edges.

She was giving up. If the pattern was right, it had taken four days, but it was happening. Something small in her wanted to fight it, but it just wasn't worth it.

They came to take the bodies. She knew they were still warm. No blindfold. No needles. She knew the woman would be back to change her clothes in a short while. Beckett also knew it would be the perfect time to try and get away; they wouldn't expect it, after all, it looked like she was giving up.

Oh, right, she had. Why escape? Where would she go? Nobody was coming for her, looking for her. The man had said so. And why would he lie? Beckett sighed and rested her head back against the wall, exhausted.

The woman came back in, looking more than a little giddy, and Beckett didn't move. Her restraints were undone and she was lead to the bathroom. She went, the woman changed her clothes and she was put back in the little gray room. The blood was still sticky and warm on the ground.

* * *

><p>"Anything on the ring and watch?" Castle asked. It wasn't lost on him, the significance of the ring and watch to their case and the ones sitting on his desk in his study at home. He'd picked them up from Kate's apartment after CSU was done and kept them safe for her.<p>

Ryan shoved aside the pizza they'd ordered. It had been Lanie's idea to try and take a break, get something in their stomachs, but they'd spent the past hour and a half pushing the slices around their plates, hardly taking bites.

"Took a little digging, but the guy's watch matched a robbery report from a few months ago. Upper East Side, B & E. Laptop, sound system, plasma screen. The safe was wrenched open and money, jewellery, and this watch were taken. Somehow, robbery found the watch at a pawn shop and returned it," Ryan reported, pulling up the report on his computer.

"And it's the same watch as in the video?" Esposito asked. His pizza sat untouched on his desk in front of him.

"The emblem is the same, can't say for sure if it's the same guy," Ryan pointed out, maximizing the picture from the robbery report and a still frame from the video.

"They look identical," Castle said, eyes flicking from one to the other, looking for any differences.

"Family emblems are supposed to, that's the point." Esposito said. "Who'd it belong to?" he continued, standing up and heading over to Ryan's desk as well.

"Edward Daniels filed the report, the loft belongs to him and his wife Helen." Ryan answered.

"Okay, so what, now we go pick them up, right? A man and woman working together, he's got the same watch, she's probably got a ring-," Castle was cut off by Esposito.

"They're in their 80's, bro. It's probably not them,"

Castle turned desperate eyes on Esposito. "We have to do something. Did you see that video? Did that look like Beckett to you? She's been there for four days, Esposito, four days! She's not going to last another four hours, never mind however long it takes to track these guys down!"

The two detectives sat in silences, each seeing Beckett's empty desk in their peripheral.

"Castle, I didn't say we weren't going to talk to them, but it's unlikely these two have the strength and resources to kidnap a highly trained NYPD homicide detective and eight other people, and then hold them." Esposito said carefully. He had every intention of asking the Daniels' why their suspects were wearing their family emblem.

* * *

><p>"I have no idea what's going on. Now, I've said I wanted my lawyer and I'm not saying another word until he gets here,"<p>

Edward Daniels was not impressed. He was large for a man in his 80s, tall and broad shoulders with grey hair and sharp eyes. His hands were tough and worn, not what you'd expect from a millionaire with six lawyers on speed dial.

"Ed, sit _down_. What were you saying Detective?" Helen Daniels was significantly smaller than her husband, but seemed to have control over the posturing man. She barely spared him a glance before turning her attention back to Esposito and Ryan with a pleasant smile.

"I was asking where you and your husband were at the dates and times written down here," Esposito said slowly, clearly frustrated with the pair, and gestured to the single piece of paper on the table.

Helen slid the paper towards herself and pulled the glasses up from her pocket by a chain before putting them on and inspecting the list. "Well, I can save you the trouble of all these little boxes," she said easily, pushing the paper back toward Ryan with one finger.

"We were in Europe. Starting last Friday. We arrived back only a few hours ago, shortly before you showed up at our door." she continued easily.

"Can you identify this for me?" Ryan asked, laying down a shot of a watch from the robbery report.

"That's my watch. It was stolen and returned to me. Is that what this is about? Were there more break-ins? Why didn't you people start with that?" Edward cut in.

"This isn't about break-ins Mr. Daniels. And is this your same watch?" Esposito said, putting down a still frame of their suspect's watch from the video.

"It looks like it, it has our crest on it, right Ed?" Helen said, frowning a little. "But you have your watch,"

Edward held up his wrist seemingly as proof as he studied the picture as well.

"Does anyone else wear your family crest?" Ryan asked, looking back and forth between the couple.

"Our son, Scott, has a watch like this, but he's away on business in Los Angeles," Helen answered, looking up at the detectives. "He couldn't have anything to do with anything,"

"Mrs. Daniels, does your son have any knowledge of chemistry or pharmaceuticals?"

"No, he's a business consultant, like Ed; he went to Yale."

"When was the last time you talked to him?" Ryan pulled out his pad and waited for the answer on pins and needles. This was the closest thing they'd had to a lead in days and it was leaving him anxious.

"About a week ago? He'd just finished clearing up his father's estate, that's why he's in Los Angeles, finishing up his business," Helen answered.

"His father?" Ryan and Esposito asked in unison, clearly confused.

"Scott's our adopted son. We couldn't have children and we adopted him as a baby. His biological father died a few months ago and Scott inherited his finances and estate." Edward explained, slightly more calm now that he thought he wasn't in trouble anymore.

"Could this be him?" Esposito tapped the picture of the watch, and wrist, in question.

"If that photo was taken in Los Angeles, then sure," Helen answered, an edge creeping into her tone.

"We need to get in touch with him. Do you have a contact number for him in LA?" Ryan pressed his ankles together in an attempt to keep calm.

"Well, of course, but what is it you think he's involved in?" Helen asked, not taking the pen and paper Ryan was inching towards her.

"There have been several murders, I'm sure you've seen them on the news," Ryan answered carefully.

"What? You think our son is responsible for that? There's no way! Scott would never hurt anyone, ever." Helen said sharply. She folded her arms over her chest and refused the pen and paper.

Behind the glass, Castle clenched his hands into fists and tried to reign in his anger. This was their guy. He could feel it. And these two, parents or not, were keeping them from finding him and by extension Beckett.

He watched as Esposito tried to take over for his partner.

"Look, all we know is that your family emblem is on the wrist of our lead suspect. Now, if you remember, you just identified this person as Scott. You have no other children or family members that wear this emblem. This is him. We need to talk to him. Maybe his watch was stolen, maybe this is him, maybe it's not. Either way, we need to talk to him. Now."

Edward and Helen exchanged glances.

* * *

><p>It took a few hours, what with the Daniels' finally getting in touch with their lawyer, but by the time the sun was setting the older couple had written down their son's address in New York and where he was supposed to be staying in LA, along with phone numbers.<p>

Chinese food crowded the break room table, almost all of it untouched, as the men plus Lanie waded through Scott Daniels' financials and records.

"This guy is cleaner than Alexis," Castle finally commented, pushing away the property records, all legal and a few even designated for charity and non-profit organizations for the community.

Ryan ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and dropped back against the back of his chair before dragging a hand over his face. "There has to be something. Anything."

Lanie sat quietly on the couch in the corner, playing with her Chinese food and listening to the boys.

"Daniels is supposed to be in LA," Esposito said after a moment of somber silence. He started from the beginning, with what they knew. "So far, we can't find one credit card receipt or airline ticket that says he actually went."

"He could have driven," Ryan offered, like he had the first time.

"Across the country, not likely, and definitely not if he had money and property waiting for him on the other side."

"Private plane," Castle said next, same as last time.

"Nothing chartered out of any of the private air strips and nothing logged at the commercial air lines either."

"Has he used his credit card this week?" Lanie piped up before anyone could say anything else.

"What?"

"He's supposed to be in LA right? Well, if he's still in New York and is buying things here, wouldn't it show up?"

Esposito sorted through the credit card statements and searched down the list. "Good catch, looks like he's renting a hotel room here in the city, why would he do that if he's supposedly in LA?"

Castle perked up a little. "Can we go find out?"

Ryan and Esposito exchanged glances before standing and pulling on their jackets.

Before they could make it to the door, however, Lanie's cell phone rang, followed closely by Esposito's.

This wasn't good.

* * *

><p>The sun had fully set, as usual, when the detectives and writer pulled up behind Lanie's ME van in an alley in Queens. An officer from the 114th greeted them grimly and waved them under the tape. There was no territorial bullshit anymore, not with these murders going on.<p>

The ME from the 114th stood up and stepped aside for Lanie as well, but shared what he knew as Lanie inspected the first body.

"Looks like your guy. Multiple stab wounds, still warm. ID says he's Oliver Wilder, 35. Lives eight blocks away."

"I take it there's a woman as well?" Lanie said, carefully recovering the man's face. This one looked the most like Castle. She was almost afraid to look at the other one.

"Yes, just a little further down the alley. I'll have our CSU guys send over everything. Same as the others, single GSW to the chest."

Lanie choked down a sob at the sight of this woman, who the driver's license identified as Julia Wilder, who looked like her best friend's twin.

"God," she heard from over her shoulder. She craned her neck and looked up into the face of Castle, his eyes wide and bright with tears. "We have to find her," he muttered.

Lanie stood up and pulled a glove off, settled it on the writer's arm. "We will. We'll bring her home,"

* * *

><p>Beckett sat slumped against the wall. These last two had been the worst. Five couples now, ten people. Julia and Oliver. They'd looked the most like her and Castle. Oliver had sounded like Castle too, his voice deep and strong. And now they were dead.<p>

Their bodies were gone, most likely laid out somewhere for someone to find. Their blood was still here though. Mixed in and stained with the others. She swallowed thickly.

The man came in then, carrying a tray of food. Usually it was a small sandwich, peanut butter and jelly or egg salad, with her daily glass of water and pee break, when they changed her clothes and brought her back.

Looked like ham and cheese from here. There was another glass of water this time, and that's what she really wanted; her throat was dry and tight from disuse. She hadn't spoken in a while now...

"Think they'll ever figure it out?" the man asked conversationally, crouching in front of her. It was one of the first times he'd spoken directly to her. He spoke, god he spoke, when he was torturing his victims, but never while he faced her. Never made conversation.

Beckett didn't answer, just kept staring at the wall.

The man settled in front of her and picked up a half of the sandwich, held it to her mouth. She opened and took a bite, chewed slowly, even though it tasted delicious.

"I mean, if they're even still looking for you, right?" he teased a little, lifting the sandwich again once she'd swallowed. She took another even bite.

"I know I wouldn't be looking for you, even if you are gorgeous. I've seen what you do to that poor writer, Castle isn't it? The way you flirt with him, but don't actually do anything about it? Makes you a tease, dear."

Beckett knew he was right but didn't say anything. Just swallowed her bite and her anger along with it. He held up the glass of water and she drank, not letting any of it spill.

"You know that woman who helps me out?" he asked conspiratorially. "She's only doing this because I make her. Granted, she enjoys it now, but it wasn't her idea initially. No, not at all. But do you want to know why she started this little project with me?"

Beckett didn't say anything. She wanted to know, but really what good would it do? She wasn't going anywhere. Nobody was coming for her. She was on her own.

"Because I threatened him." the man said, holding up the sandwich half.

She didn't give any indication that she'd heard him, just took another bite, but she was interested now, curious.

"Aren't you going to ask who? Of course you aren't. Took longer than I expected, but hey, we're all wrong occasionally right? Your writer. Or, her writer. She wishes he was hers. Doesn't think you deserve him at all. The way you treat him. Talk to him. Dismiss him. She loves him back, you see."

Castle. Beckett could stop her involuntary reaction at the realization this man was talking about threatening Castle. Her eyes ticked to the man's face.

"Ah, a reaction. Guess we haven't sufficiently traumatized you as of yet. Interesting. Yes, Richard Castle. She loves him. I threatened to actually bring him in here too, instead of just men who looked like him. Now she stays to make sure I don't, but she likes the fact it bothers you so much."

Beckett refused the next bite and looked resolutely away again. Castle was not theirs to play with. He wasn't this woman's to protect. He was hers.

The man kept talking but Beckett didn't hear him. She was busy planning.

She was getting out of here and she was getting out of here soon.

* * *

><p>soooo? questions, comments, thoughts, concerns?<p>

reviews are love!

:)


	5. Chapter 5

alright folks here's the next chapter! hope you enjoy!

as for the person who reviewed it was moving at a slow pace, it's already written this way, there's no changing it now. also it's intended to be dragged out over the course of a work week. thanks for your input and i hope it moves more to your liking.

enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>FRIDAY<span>

It was early. Lanie couldn't sleep and lay awake on the couch in her office. She was once again waiting for tox screens and test results on the latest victims.

The sun was barely rising above the city skyline when she finally hauled herself up and went for coffee, to mentally prepare herself for another day of nothing. She was rapidly losing hope now. Who knew how much longer her girl could last where she was? Kate Beckett was strong, but the woman they'd all seen in that video didn't look much like their Kate anymore.

Just as she reached the coffee machine in the break room upstairs, her cell phone rang sharply.

On the couch in the corner, Esposito jerked awake and sat up, scrubbing at his eyes.

Lanie smiled a small smile at him over her shoulder and answered it tiredly.

"Lanie Parish,"

"_Lanie?_"

Lanie dropped her mug and it shattered on the tiles. Esposito looked up quickly and frowned as the ME went as pale as was possible for her complexion. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was dropped.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

"_Lanie?_"

"Kate,"

Esposito was up as soon as he heard that and he crossed the break room in three strides, taking the phone from her shaking fingers and pulling her close and the phone to his ear.

"Beckett?"

"_Espo, hi,_" it was Beckett. She sounded tired, and raspy, like she hadn't spoken in a long time.

"Beckett, where are you? How are you calling? Are you okay?"

"_He's coming, back. Warehouse? I'm tired, Espo, please come get me now._"

"You're in a warehouse? Who's coming back? Where are you?"

"_Smells like blood. And paint. No windows. Man and woman. Please come,_"

"Why does she sound like that?" Lanie said from his shoulder.

"Beckett?"

"_I have to go. Hurry,_"

The line went dead. The two stared at the phone a moment before bursting into action.

* * *

><p>"She called?" Castle bolted upright in bed, suddenly wide awake.<p>

"She called Lanie, we don't know how, but it's a cell number, we're tracing it now. She said she was in a warehouse, man and woman working together, smelled like paint. Any of that striking a crazy theory cord, bro?"

Castle offhandedly noted the background noise in the precinct, people moving around quickly, papers shuffling, phones ringing and being put back in their cradles, voices overlapping each other.

"Uh, no, um, I'll be right there. What time is it?" He asked out loud, searching his dark room for the glow of his alarm clock.

7:48 AM glared back at him as he hung up with the detective and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

As he dropped his phone on the bedspread, something caught his attention.

**5 missed calls.**

Frowning, he slid his finger across the screen to unlock it and looked up the number, noting that it wasn't one he recognized.

A cell number. One he didn't recognize. Beckett called Lanie. Why Lanie? Why not him first? _She did, you just didn't hear her._

He jumped up and cursed out loud, flinging the phone against the pillows. Taking a calming breath, Castle pulled off his sweats and t-shirt and yanked on jeans and a button up, forgetting his usual blazer in the rush to get moving.

All but sprinting down the stairs, he almost crashed into Alexis.

"Dad!" she cried out, nearly dropping her OJ.

"Sweetie!" Castle gripped her shoulders and steadied her carefully.

"Where's the fire, kiddo?" Martha called from the kitchen.

"It's Beckett! She called, from a phone she called and they're tracing it and I have to go,"

"Well that's great, where is she? Is she okay?" Alexis was rapid-firing questions.

"I don't know, I'm going to find out, to the precinct," complete sentences escaped him at the moment.

They had a new lead on Beckett and he had to go. Now. His heart was beating against his ribs and his stomach was clenching and unclenching.

"Go, go!" Martha waved him out the door.

"Dad, wait!" Alexis called before he turned the handle. She raced over and hugged him tightly, squeezing once before letting go. She pointed at his feet. "Shoes,"

* * *

><p>"What do we know?" Castle demanded as he finally reached the bullpen.<p>

"The Wilders are the same as the others, no connection to the other vics or Beckett, same chemical substance, same COD, same paint chips and residues. The trace on Beckett's phone call was only specific enough to tell us she's somewhere in Manhattan." Esposito reported from the murder board.

Scott Daniels' picture was front and centre, a picture of the emblem next to it. A line ran from his picture to the top right corner where there was a picture of Beckett. Castle noted that lines extended from all around his picture to all the couples.

"Anything to connect Daniels to the others?" Castle asked quickly.

"Nothing. It's like he just picks them out of thin air and they all happen to look like you and Beckett," Ryan answered in frustration.

"Wait, paint chips,"

Esposito and Ryan exchanged looks before raising eyebrows at Castle. "What?" they asked in unison.

"Paint chips? And Manhattan! Where's Daniels' property records?" Castle turned in a circle looking for them before he snatched them up off the desk next to him.

"What is it?" Ryan asked.

"Paint chips! A warehouse with paint chips and you said Beckett smelled paint and the call came from Manhattan."

"So?"

"So, Scott Daniels owns warehouses all over the state, including several in Manhattan; he turned one into cheap storage, one into an indoor soccer field for kids and the other in Chelsea into an art gallery for the local community centre! A warehouse in Manhattan with paint owned by Scott Daniels who's watch is in the video of our vic and Beckett AND who is supposed to be in LA but isn't?" he spoke quickly and all in one breath, waving the papers around as the lightbulb went off in his head.

"Please tell me we're driving out to Chelsea."

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>Sirens wailing, tires screeching, Esposito peeled into the empty lot outside the warehouse-turned-art-gallery. He and Ryan jumped out of the car, but Castle was way ahead of them, running for the closest door.<p>

Behind him, Ryan and Esposito were yelling for him to stop, to wait for them, to put on his goddamn vest, but Castle was already nearing the door.

He skidded to a stop when it flew open before he could touch the handle.

* * *

><p>Beckett was tired, so tired, too many days and nights of too little food and water. Too long sitting slumped against a wall.<p>

But they believed she'd still given up. They'd hadn't bound her hands. They hadn't sedated her.

She still had no shoes. The sweater they'd put her in was gone now. But they'd gone too. All she had to do was get up and get out. That's it. Just get up and walk out of this little grey room.

Everything the man had said to her raced through her mind, but she pushed it aside. She didn't care if Castle hated her or if this woman ended up being his choice instead. Part of her didn't quite believe it, and needed to see and hear it for herself.

She clung to that part and took a deep breath, pulling herself to her feet. The door to the room was unlocked and she tugged it open. She chose a direction at random and set off, carefully avoiding open doorways.

After several long minutes and more than a few wrong turns, she walked through an open space with clean wood floors and high white walls. Art gallery? The paint. Beckett remembered the detail for later and moved on, sighting a heavy grey door at the other end of the room.

She made it two steps before a female voice called out.

"Hey!"

Beckett turned and saw the woman. She had a knife in one hand, a syringe in the other. She didn't need to be a detective to figure out that the woman had waited until the man had left and was planning on drugging then killing her.

She wouldn't get the chance. This woman wanted Castle. But Beckett had to believe in all the flirting and always and touches and looks and promises and acts of kindness that Castle wanted her. Not this woman. Her.

Beckett turned and tried to hurry her aching legs towards the door, but the woman was faster, jabbing the needle into her neck and depressing the plunger.

She stumbled and fell to her knees with a sharp exhale as they connected with the wood.

"You thought you could just _walk out_? Just leave and run straight into his arms? He doesn't want you, you know. He _hates_ you. He doesn't want to show it because you'll fall to pieces if another person leaves, but he's sick of you and you're teasing. Me? I wouldn't tease him. I _love_ him. And I'm going to be there for him when your body shows up, washed ashore from the East River,"

Beckett forced her eyes to stay open and watched as the woman advanced on her with what she saw was the scalpel.

"You don't deserve him. It doesn't matter if you live, really. As long as Caste thinks you're in trouble, it'll drive him crazy, which keeps the boss happy," she said 'boss' with exaggeration, "but the illusion of you can do the same. All I have to do is keep helping him and Castle's safe."

The woman dropped to her knees and straddled Beckett's legs. "See? This is how you keep someone you love safe. You don't get them shot at, you don't put their lives in danger, their families."

The woman lowered the scalpel to Beckett's cheek and applied gentle pressure, just until the skin broke and blood beaded to the surface. Tears pricked her eyes and Beckett took another deep breath as the woman continued to talk.

She wasn't listening anymore. Beckett pushed the talking out, like she was getting used to doing, and focused all her energy on her right arm. Curling her fingers into a fist, she breathed in and swung.

Her fist cut off the woman's sentence mid-word and knocked her clean off her legs. Beckett scrambled on uncooperative legs until she was upright and staggering for the door.

Her single thought was Castle.

"Hey!"

Beckett didn't look back, instead threw herself at the door.

* * *

><p>Castle grunted in surprise when the door flung open and he found himself suddenly with an armful of trembling Beckett.<p>

"Beckett? Guys! It's-,"

"Get down!" Ryan shouted, more cars pulling up and more cops piling out and shouting.

Castle looked up and saw a woman framed in the open doorway, scalpel raised and glinting in the sunlight. He blinked and she lunged for Beckett, sharp end first and Castle hit the deck, pulling Beckett under him protectively.

A muffled bang rang out and the woman above them cried out before dropping like a sack of potatoes next to them.

"Whoa," Castle breathed. That had probably been the most action packed 15 seconds of his life.

The woman groaned and Ryan was immediately next to them, handcuffing her and hauling her to her feet, the beanbag one of the other officers had fired laying at their feet.

"Castle, Beckett," Esposito appeared above them too as uniforms in vests swarmed into the building, guns raised.

Castle leaned up off Beckett and peered down at her.

Her eyes were closed and she looked pale.

"Beckett? Beckett! Beckett, open your eyes. Come on," Castle touched her cheek, tapped it gently, then more firmly. She didn't move. He noted blossoming bruises on her face.

"She's breathing bro, she's just out. The ambulance is here," Esposito grasped Castle's shoulder and helped him lift Beckett into the writer's arms before the paramedics could even unload the stretcher and wheel it over.

"Beckett. Kate? Kate, come on," he kept whispering over and over. He laid her out on the stretcher and the paramedics eased him aside to check her over. Castle winced when he caught sight of her cut and torn and bruised wrists.

"She's, she's gonna be okay, right?" he asked the closest paramedic, who was sliding an oxygen mask over Beckett's face while her partner attached a portable heart monitor to her finger and chest.

"Right?"

"Sir, are you riding in the ambulance?" The woman asked, already helping her partner lift and fold the legs up to slide the stretcher into the ambulance.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," and he climbed in, instantly taking Beckett's cold hand in his.

* * *

><p>Castle sat in worried silence all the way to the hospital, but the ambulance driver and paramedics didn't seem to be in such a huge hurry or seem all that concerned about Beckett. They didn't use the lights and only turned on the sirens when traffic started to bog down.<p>

When they pulled up to New York Presbyterian, he was ushered down a different hospital with a nurse while Beckett was taken a different way to a private curtained off area in the emergency room.

He slumped into a cushioned chair and ran a hand through his hair, not noticing when the nurse tried to hand him a clipboard. "Sir?"

Castle looked up and took the clipboard and papers. "Try and fill these out as best you can for your wife, when you're done just drop them off at the nurses station over there and they'll let you know what's happening next, okay?"

He didn't bother to correct the woman's assumption that Beckett was his wife. It had happened before and it would undoubtedly happen again, so he just nodded and bent his head, gripped the pen, and started filling in lines and boxes.

For a long while, the passage of time meant nothing to Castle as he worked through the paperwork before him as best he could. It turned out it was a full 30 minutes before Esposito and Ryan turned up with Lanie.

"We had to secure the scene and give out statements, how's she doing?" Esposito asked immediately, pointing a stressed looking Lanie into a chair next to Castle. She collapsed into it gratefully.

"I don't know, I haven't seen her yet, or heard anything. I was filling out these," he held up the clipboard and Lanie took it from him, studying the papers a moment before snatching the pen and filling in some of the spaces he hadn't known.

"The doctor hasn't come out yet?" Ryan asked, looking over at the nurses station.

"No, nothing, and nothing in the ambulance. She was just, she was just laying there. Not moving. She didn't even look like she was breathing," Castle lowered his head to his hands again.

Just as Lanie went to give in the paperwork on Beckett, a tall, balding man in a white coat came around the corner carrying a shinier clipboard of his own.

"Detective Katherine Beckett?" he announced, glancing up and seeing the foursome wearily get to their feet.

"We're with her," Esposito said. Lanie grasped his hand and Ryan dropped a hand to Castle's shoulder.

The doctor eyed them critically before spotting the badges around Esposito and Ryan's necks. "Alright, Detective Beckett has suffered minor malnutrition and dehydration. There are minor sprains to the muscles in her forearms and strains in both wrists. There are multiple needle marks and traces of a chemical in her blood we can't yet identify, is she on any experimental medications?"

Lanie took the liberty of answering. "No, it's an unknown and possibly unstable compound. Administered against her will," she said pointedly.

"Alright, well for now we only have her on IV fluids, because we don't know what's going to interact with this drug. Her heart rate and blood pressure are a little low, but they're stable, her breathing's good. There are minor scrapes, bruises and contusions over her legs and arms, one on her jaw, but nothing's broken or fractured. No sign of internal bleeding. Right now we're just waiting for her to wake up, and then we can go from there,"

"When can we see her?" Castle asked almost before the doctor had finished speaking. His ID card clipped to his scrubs pocket said Dr. F. Rodgers.

"She's resting comfortably, so you can visit for a short time if you like, I'll take you up there now?"

Dr. Rodgers took in the four immediate nods and turned down the way he'd come, the men and Lanie following right behind.

* * *

><p>It was almost 11 before Ryan's phone rang. Montgomery asked how Beckett was and then told them to get back to the precinct and interrogate the woman they'd arrested and go over what CSU had found.<p>

Lanie was not to be moved from Beckett's right side as the boys explained and left, anger simmering just below the surface. Castle sat at Beckett's left side, both he and Lanie claiming a hand to hold onto.

"Did you go in and clear the scene with the boys?" he asked some time later in a low voice.

"Yeah," Lanie said back, in a voice just as low and thick with something like disgust and sadness.

"How bad was it?"

"Castle, I don't-,"

"Please, just tell me. It can't be worse than what I'm imagining."

Even though they had all seen the video, Castle couldn't stop his mind from spinning different scenarios. What if there was more than one room? What if there were multiple rooms and each was more horrible than the last?

"It was like the video," Lanie said quietly, but with anger clearly lacing her tone. She was watching Beckett's peaceful face as she slept off the cocktail that had been forced upon her.

"It was a small grey room, a set of restraints attached to the far wall. The blood, the blood was everywhere on the closest half. Stained into the concrete and against the wall. Splatter, from the gunshots. It almost reached those restraints, Castle."

It almost reached Beckett, she was saying.

"There, there was blood in the cuffs of the restraints, a blindfold, a tray with half a sandwich on it, a glass of water. It smelled like so much blood. Ten people's worth." Lanie said, finally looking up into Castle's eyes.

He swallowed thickly and looked back down at Beckett, his Kate, and reached up with the hand not holding hers and pushed hair behind her ears. It was dirty and tangled. The bruises on the pale skin of her jaw were turning into a handprint; someone had gripped her face, hard.

"Jesus," he whispered, lowering his hand.

"She's here, Castle. She made it. She's strong, a survivor." Lanie tried to reassure him and herself.

"Yeah, yeah." Castle agreed softly.

They turned back to their girl and fell into silence, waiting for her to wake up.

* * *

><p>"I'm not saying a word." the woman pressed her hand tighter to her shoulder and eyed Esposito angrily.<p>

"That's fine. I'll do the talking, Ms. Clark." the detective flipped open a thin file and calmly took a seat opposite her.

"Annabeth Clark, 35, lives on the Upper East SIde, works as a pharmacist and part time research chemist at NYU, employed six years at AlphaBeta Pharmaceuticals and Yearly's Pharmacy." Esposito listed off. He pulled a face and glanced up at her for the first time. "That's all you make? Tell me, how do you afford a penthouse on the Upper East Side, huh?"

Annabeth Clark looked away, the defiance sliding slowly from her face as he revealed more and more about her.

"Right, forgot, you're not talking. Only child, parents died when you were young, no arrest record. Surprising, but not uncommon. How'd you go from model citizen to kidnapping a cop, Annabeth?"

She focused on a spot above the two way mirror and tried not to flinch.

"Okay. Fine. You can talk to the DA when she gets here. And let me tell you, they don't tend to make deals with murderers, especially not ones that kidnaps cops. And definitely not one that targeted, kidnapped and tortured a homicide detective, one with close and success rate of-,"

"It wasn't just me. I never hurt her!" Annabeth blurted.

Esposito turned to the two way glass and moments later Ryan was striding in with another thin pile of folders.

"Who were you working with?"

"Scott, it was Scott Daniels! He's my brother, please, don't send me to prison, I didn't even kidnap that cop, he did. I didn't kill anybody! I was just protecting him!"

"Protecting who?"

* * *

><p>Evening rolled in and Ryan and Esposito turned back up in Beckett's room with burgers from Remy's, cans of coke, bottles of water and a thick file.<p>

"Did she talk?" Lanie asked, looking up at the detectives as they came in the door.

"She did, you wouldn't believe what she's saying." Ryan answered, settling heavily on the small couch pushed against the wall.

"What about Scott Daniels?" Castle asked, accepting a burger from Esposito along with a bottle of water. Lanie took a burger and a coke.

"Can't find him; we've frozen his credit cards and put a trace of his cell phone, unis are on his home and office, Karpowski's team is assigned to finish processing the scene and sitting on the warehouse in case he heads back there," Esposito filled in, falling heavily onto the couch next to his partner and handing him a burger.

"How's she doing?" Ryan asked, unwrapping his food.

"Nothing yet, hasn't moved a muscle," Lanie reported, popping the tab on her can of coke.

As soon as the tab popped open the can, Beckett's eyes opened, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. A sigh escaped her lips and she looked around the room without really seeing the occupants. With evening rolling in, the room was darkening, casting shadows along the walls. They looked grey.

Her wrists ached and something was bound around them.

She felt disoriented and like she was swimming in syrup. She'd felt it before. She hadn't escaped. She was still in that awful grey room.

"No," came out on a groan and she squeezed her eyes closed, hot tears pricking behind her eyelids and escaping to slide down pale cheeks.

"Kate? Sweetie open your eyes," Lanie pushed the burger down the bed and stood, grasping Beckett's hand tighter, the other going to the detective's cheek.

Beckett felt a hand on her cheek and turned away from it. She was still in the room. She had thought, she remembered escaping, crashing through a heavy door into Castle. Blue sky. The writer's voice.

"Honey, look at me, Kate," Lanie kept trying but Beckett pulled away from her. They all noticed Beckett didn't try and lift her hands.

Castle felt his stomach clench and flicked his gaze to Lanie. "Let me try,"

Lanie eyed him carefully but pulled back to stand by Esposito, who had risen with Ryan when Beckett had first stirred. They watched as Castle swiped sweaty palms on his thighs before gently placing one hand on each of Beckett's cheeks, softly wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

"Shh, Beckett, it's okay. Look, open your eyes, come on." he whispered, lowering his face to rest on the pillow next to hers where she'd turned away from Lanie. The position was awkward and he already felt twinges in his back but ignored them, focusing on the woman in front of him.

"No," she groaned again, but she didn't move.

Beckett frowned again. This felt different. There wasn't one hand on her face, trying to maneuver her. There were two hands, soft hands, and they were cradling, not gripping.

"Kate," Castle whispered, risking life and limb to nudge her nose with his, then to rest his forehead against her wrinkled one.

Watery hazel eyes opened to worried blue ones. Slim fingers came up to curl around a strong wrist.

"Hi," Castle said, trying a small smile.

He was so close, Beckett could hardly focus on him but she felt relief wash over her at the feel of him under her fingers, against her forehead, the smell of him. His voice.

"I'm sorry," she said back softly. He'd come for her, they all had, and she didn't deserve it. The man and woman had been right.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Castle said firmly, thumbs still stroking her cheeks. Her face crumpled a little before she took a deep breath.

"Thank you for coming to get me," Beckett said, still in a whisper.

"Always," he replied. "How are you feeling?" Castle hooked his knee up on the bed and half leaned, half sat on the edge, one hand staying on her face, the other slipping down to hold her hand. She gripped back.

Beckett swallowed and her eyes closed again before opening lazily, like it took significant effort. "So tired,"

"Lanie's going to call the doctor, okay? So he can check you over. And then you can rest, okay?"

"Okay," she breathed, eye falling shut again.

Lanie tore her eyes from the heartwarming scene in front of her to find the doctor. She elbowed Esposito on her way out and pulled him and Ryan out into the hall.

"Javier, you track down and call Kate's dad, his number's in my phone. Kev, can you call and update the Captain? I'm going to find the doctor."

The three broke their small huddle and went off to do their tasks.

* * *

><p>yay! she's found alive! after half-rescuing herself, of course :)<p>

and now we get into some fluffy goodness. we all need it by now, right? right. glad you agree.

reviews are love!


	6. Chapter 6

WOW so long break between parts there. Finals in school and Christmas break with two families (my parents are separated) and babysitting and *sigh* okay. Back on track :D

enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>SATURDAY<span>

It was early the next morning by the time the doctor made it in to see Beckett, the sun not even touching the horizon yet. Lanie was asleep on the small couch while Ryan had gone home to Jenny and Esposito had gone for hot chocolate for himself and Castle.

The writer sat in his chair again, watching his muse sleep peacefully, one of her hands curled in his. His free hand trailed gently over her wrapped right wrist, down over her bruising knuckles and back up again.

"Ah, Mr. Castle, Dr. Parish tells me Detective Beckett woke up briefly?" Dr. Rodgers spoke quietly to Castle first, not wanting to wake his patient unless it was necessary.

"Yes, she seemed a little, out of it. Not herself, could that be a side effect of the drug?"

"Detective Beckett has suffered a trauma, from what her injuries and your reports tell me; combined with an unstable and dangerous drug, I'm happy she's only a little out of it." Dr. Rodgers said honestly.

"I'm going to need to wake her up, take some blood, ask her a few questions and the like," he finished.

Castle nodded and squeezed Beckett's hand, shook her shoulder gently. "Kate, the doctor's here, you have to wake up,"

Beckett's eyes drifted open and she looked confused and more than a little worried before she focused on Castle's face. "What?"

He smiled a little and repeated himself. "The doctor's here. Can you stay awake? He needs to look you over,"

Beckett submitted to the tests sleepily and quietly answered the questions. She reached for and squeezed Castle's hand when Dr. Rodgers drew some blood.

When the doctor left and Lanie was still softly snoring, Castle returned to his chair, reaching for her hand again. "Hey, how're you doing?" he asked gently.

"I don't want to talk about it." Beckett answered quietly, meeting his eyes warily.

"Okay, that's fine. What do you need me to do?"

Beckett thought about it and the first thing that came to mind was that wanted to feel something other than the chains she'd felt, something other than the concrete and hardwood and bandages and IVs. Smell something other than blood and gunpowder and sweat. Hear something other than screams and gunshots and the beeping of the IV pump.

She shifted backwards, away from him and touched the space she'd created. It wasn't much, but the more he hesitated, the more she wanted it to happen.

Castle bit the inside of his cheek at her request. "I don't know, Kate, you're hurt and-,"

"It's okay. Never mind." the woman had been right; Castle didn't feel anything for her. He stayed because he knew she'd be so much worse off if he didn't. She'd teased him too much, pushed him away too many times and too hard.

Castle heard the note of something in her voice that threatened to break his heart. It wasn't that he didn't want to climb into that bed and hold her close and never let her go, because he _so did_, but she was injured. She'd been held captive for almost five days, had seen people killed in front her, people that looked like them. He didn't want to take advantage of her.

"No, no, keep sliding over," he said, toeing off his shoes and unbuttoning the top few buttons on his shirt for comfort.

Beckett looked up at him gratefully and shifted a little more so he could slide onto the bed next to her. He was on top of the sheets while she was under them, which was a little binding, but she didn't mind.

Castle hesitated again for a moment before sliding an arm under her head and pulling her over gently to rest her head on his shoulder. She came willingly and folded into his side, sighing quietly.

"Better?" he whispered into her hair.

"Yes,"

* * *

><p>It felt like he'd been asleep for only a few minutes, but when Castle woke to use the bathroom, the sun was rising above the skyline. A quick glance at his watch told it was coming up on 7:20am-<p>

Glance at his watch? His arm had been wrapped around Beckett...

He turned his head and found Beckett was far from him as she could get and still be on the bed, blankets kicked off her body and face flushed red. Sweat beaded on her forehead and when she shifted restlessly, the collar of her gown slipped down, showing the red spreading down her neck and blooming on her chest.

"Uh, Beckett? Kate? Kate, wake up," he shook her shoulder gently, and then more firmly when she didn't react to him.

"Lanie," Castle called as he rolled off the bed, pressing the call button on the side of the rail as he went.

"What?" Lanie grumbled awake, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes tiredly. She stood up immediately though when she caught sight of Beckett's flushed form. "Kate?"

"I woke up and she was bright red," Castle said in a slight panic. He touched a hand to her cheek and pulled it away quickly. "She's burning up,"

* * *

><p>"It seems to be a side effect of the cocktail. Detective Beckett's body is fighting whatever compounds are still in her system. We've given her something for the fever, hopefully it will work with her body to eradicate the residual chemicals," Dr. Rodgers explained.<p>

It was coming up on 8 am now and Jim Beckett was sitting with his daughter as Castle and Lanie waited outside.

"How long will it take? Before this drug is out of her system?" Jim gripped Kate's hand tighter as she slept, his thumb moving in soothing circles over her heated skin. He'd arrived a few minutes earlier to a nervous Castle and pacing Lanie. The ME had explained what had happened, with Castle filling in every now and then.

"It's hard to say," Rodgers explained carefully, "since we've never seen this type of drug before, but our best guess is that this is the end of it; her body is getting rid of the last dredges of it."

"So, you're saying she's okay? She'll be okay when the fever breaks?" Jim glanced down at Kate.

"Yes, that's what I'm saying. But I have to remind you, Mr. Beckett-,"

"I know, the drug is unstable and experimental. I'm choosing to be optimistic here,"

Rodgers smiled tightly and folded his hands together. "Right. I'll leave you to it. Should I let Mr. Castle and Dr. Parish in?"

* * *

><p>"I don't think I can do this." Castle looked through the glass at the man sitting in the interrogation room; he looked unruffled, completely unaffected.<p>

Dark hair, blue eyes, easy smile. Could pass for normal.

Except he had kidnapped Kate and effectively tortured her for days on end.

He had gotten a call from Ryan and Esposito shortly after Jim went in to discuss Kate's fever with Dr. Rodgers; Lanie stayed behind to see how Kate was while he went with the boys to see the man responsible for putting her in the hospital.

"You don't have to, we're not going in." Ryan said carefully, crossing his arms and glaring through the glass. The man on the other side picked at his nails, bored, before yawning and settling back in his chair.

"What?"

"Montgomery isn't letting us in there to interrogate this asshole," Esposito filled in. His fists were clenched even though his face and voice were relatively calm.

"Why not? We're the ones who caught this guy!" Castle exclaimed, forgetting the fact that moments earlier he hadn't wanted to go in to the room at all.

"Too close to the case. Cap said it was a gift he let us work it as much as he did. Said there's no way we're going in there now. Karpowski and Jenner are gonna crack him." Ryan moved to lean against the small table against the far wall.

In the other room, Karpowski and her partner, a newbie by the name of Jenner, entered and closed the door with a firm click behind them. Karpowski dropped the case file onto the metal table and sat down, ignoring the man's gaze as it lazily sought hers.

Jenner took up a folded-armed stance off to one side.

"So, Mr. Daniels; can I assume you know why you're here today?" Karpowski began with a sarcastic drawl.

"You could, but you know what they say about assuming," Daniels replied with a thin smile. He folded his fingers together and rested them over his stomach as he reclined.

"Right. I'm not sure if you're aware we have your sister in custody? She told us everything. Now, you can either co-operate now or we can just arrest you and go home early while you sit in our finest holding cells in the basement."

Karpowski waited in silence as Daniels narrowed his eyes at her, something finally ruffling his feathers.

"She didn't tell you anything. You have nothing. Otherwise I'd already be in handcuffs," Daniels bluffed, settling back into his chair. "For example, why haven't I been in a lineup? Or had my DNA tested? Where is this cop I allegedly kidnapped?"

Jenner spoke now. "She's in the hospital. Fighting off the drug you kept feeding her. The drug administered by hypodermic needle, very much like the one clutched in your accomplice's hand when we arrested her. Did we mention the fact that we arrested her coming out of one of your warehouses? Chasing this cop you 'allegedly kidnapped'?" He made air quotes over the last two words.

Daniels turned to face Jenner for the first time. "That just proves someone broke into my warehouse. Does this mean I can press charges?"

Jenner's poker face didn't change. "This accomplice fingered you as the brains behind the operation. You forced her hand by threatening someone who means something to her."

"And you didn't consider the fact that this woman could be lying?" Daniels said with a smirk.

"You mentioned something about DNA earlier." Karpowski said, bringing Daniels' attention back to her.

Daniels didn't answer, but she had his attention again.

"Your prints were all over a secret little room in the back. A room full of blood."

There was heavy silence in the room, mirrored by the thick silence in the observation room. Castle curled his fingers into fists so tightly his fingernails indented half moons into his sweaty palms. They needed to get this guy.

When Daniels spoke, it was slowly, carefully. "Like I said. I own the warehouse. My fingerprints could be in any number of places in that building. As for the blood, the sight of it makes me faint,"

Karpowski raised an eyebrow at him and nodded once slowly. "Right. So, aside from the prints on the door knobs, walls and door frames, your fingerprints were also on a set of restraints attached to the wall. And on a glass of water next to these restraints. And on the plate of a half-eaten sandwich."

"Do I really need to explain this over and over again? This woman is obviously troubled; she targeted my warehouse and clearly broke into my house to steal my dishes and glassware."

Esposito clenched his fists tighter in the observation room. "Is this guy serious?"

Karpowski flipped open the folder now, seemingly unfazed. "I don't think she did. I think you kidnapped Detective Katherine Beckett," she slid a picture of Beckett towards Daniels, who didn't look down, "by breaking into her apartment. You held her captive in your warehouse where your sister, pardon me, half-sister, Annabeth Clark." Karpowski put another picture, this one Clark's mugshot, in front of him, "kept her under control by drugging her with an unknown and unstable chemical drug that she created."

Daniels finally looked down at the pictures. "I've never seen these women before." he reached out and brushed a smooth finger down Beckett's picture. "This one's a looker though," he smirked up at Karpowski.

Karpowski ignored him."You then proceeded to use Annabeth Clark's drug to kidnap and murder ten people. Five of them looked like Detective Beckett." she laid out five pictures of the women he'd murdered.

Victoria Bright. Sydney Logan. Gabrielle Adams. Jennifer Hale. Julia Wilder.

"They're all very beautiful. But I don't know them," There was a slight hitch in his voice now, his tell, and Karpowski heard it, kept up her steady track.

"You also murdered five men, all of them resembling Richard Castle. He's the man your half-sister has a crush on, correct? The one you kept threatening to keep her doing what you told her to?" She slid the other five pictures out into a line in front of Daniels.

Sam Bright. Jack Young. Ben Allan. Henry Jackson. Oliver Wilder.

"This is a fabulous story you're weaving here, Detective, one worthy of Richard Castle himself. But I had no part in it. I'm here aren't I? If I had been involved in this, why would I stay in the city?"

"Is that why we picked you up as you were getting into a town car headed for the airport? And sure you had a part in this." Jenner cut in, moving to stand behind Karpowski now. "You're the one who cut them up, put a bullet in each of those women's heads."

"I didn't do anything." Daniels' patience was slipping, and with it went his cool facade.

"See, we've got your fingerprints, a witness who is also your accomplice ratting you out-,"

"Is that it?" Daniels tried.

"Did I forget to mention this?" Jenner leaned over and pulled another snapshot from the file, this one of a slim, sharp, shiny scalpel. Blood stained the blade and handle. Another snapshot. A .45 caliber handgun.

"Are my prints on the scalpel? The gun?"

"Actually, your prints were on the bullets in the gun and on the handle of the scalpel. Didn't clean up after yourself," Jenner said plainly, straightening up again and crossing his arms.

Ryan let out a low whistle. "The kid's good."

Daniels clenched his jaw and cracked his knuckles.

"Ready to take us seriously now?"

"Don't I get a lawyer." Daniels bit out, a statement rather then a question.

"Sure. You think it'll help?" Karpowski directed the question to Jenner who shook his head.

"Couldn't hurt."

"See, what we don't have, Mr. Daniels, is the why. At this point it's just a formality, a side note compared to all the evidence we have stacked against you."

Daniels smiled a little now, seeing he still had some form of leverage.

"You mean you haven't figured out a motive yet? Seems to me a jury is going to want to know why I would do such an abominable thing, wouldn't you agree?"

Karpowski and Jenner exchanged a bored look before Jenner spoke. "Sure, they'll be curious. But all we have to do is show them what you did to these poor people, what you did to a cop, and they'll forget all about needing a why,"

Daniels settled back into his chair. "Has she spoken yet?"

The detectives, both in the interrogation room and the observation room, frowned at the sudden change in direction.

"What?" Karpowski asked before she could stop herself.

"Kate. Has she spoken yet? That is, if she's even conscious. You said that drug was unstable right?"

Jenner held better control of his reaction than Karpowski and Daniels seized on that.

"You must know Kate, right Detective? Work side by side with her?

Jenner looked back and forth between his partner and Daniels; he didn't know what to do. They hadn't rehearsed this part.

"Since you seem to have this pinned on me, shall I let you in on a few intimate details?" There was a loud bang as soon as the sentence was out of his mouth.

Ryan and Esposito held Castle back as he tried to lunge for the glass again, though they were half-tempted to let him lunge through the mirror and throttle the man.

"It's probably in your best interest to stop talking now, Mr. Daniels, we have our confession." Karpowski tried to recover.

"Oh, no, please; let me confess my sins. You wanted me to talk, so now I'm talking. She cried, and begged. Screamed. Her lovely, lovely face turned a beautiful shade of red as she tried to get me to stop."

"Enough," Jenner ordered, sliding the pictures into a pile and scooping them into the file. Daniels shot a hand out though and grabbed Beckett's.

"I'm just getting started. She was fun to play with. So strong and with so much attitude. Feisty. Independent. But she had fears just like everyone else. Just like my idiot of a , by the way, just wanted part of our inheritance and to keep that author safe. Turns out half of that was true for the good Detective too."

Two officers came in to the room, intent on cuffing him and taking him down to booking.

"What, you don't want to listen anymore? Tell me, has she stopped raising her arms? Stopped giving attitude? How badly have I traumatized this lovely creature?" he teased, even as he was roughly pulled to his feet.

As he was yanked into the hall, Castle burst through the doors out of the observation room ahead of shouts from Ryan and Esposito.

"Tell me why, you sick bastard!" he bit out.

Daniels smirked and eyed the writer. "Ah, the object of my sister's desire. How does it feel, being the cause of such torment for two otherwise strong, independent, beautiful women?"

Castle fisted his hands in Daniels' lapels and ignored and shrugged off Ryan and Esposito's hands.

"Why did you do this? Why did you kill them?"

Daniels smirked wider. "Because I wanted to. It's a lot scarier when there's no motive, right Castle?"

Montgomery emerged from his office at the chaos and helped Ryan and Esposito pulled the author off Daniels, who was still smirking, even as handcuffs were tightened around his wrists.

"Breathe, Castle. Take a deep breath. He's going away for a long time." Ryan said, still keeping his grip on Castle's arm and shoulder. Esposito did the same.

"Come on, let's go see Beckett, tell her and her dad and Lanie the good news." Esposito said, forcibly turning Castle towards the elevators.

From behind them, Karpowski and Jenner were coming out of the interrogation room, both rubbing their necks as stress knotted itself in their already tense muscles.

"Yeah, let's go."

* * *

><p>It was coming up on dinnertime when the detectives and writer made their way through the maze of hallways in the hospital to Beckett's room.<p>

When they got to her room, Lanie and Jim Beckett were sitting in chairs outside her room, heads in one hand and cold cups of coffee in the other. They looked tired.

"What's wrong? Is Kate-,"

"She's fine, writer boy, well physically anyway," Lanie said before looking over at Jim carefully.

"Her fever broke, but she's refusing to talk to anyone. She didn't want us to sit with her or be with her or anything," Jim said sadly, looking up at Castle.

He immediately moved towards the door and only stopped when Jim's hand touched his elbow.

"Tell her we love her, okay? And that we'll be here when she's ready."

Castle was suddenly very aware of the trust Jim was placing in him and nodded before taking a deep breath.

The room was quiet, the tv off and the blinds open to the darkening sky. There was a slim chance they'd see the stars in the heart of New York City, but the glitter of the lights from the surrounding buildings was just as enchanting.

Kate lay on her side facing the window and away from the door and didn't move when he entered.

"Kate?" he asked quietly, carefully walking into the room. "It's me. How are you feeling?"

When he got no answer, Castle walked further into the room, taking the seat on Kate's left side, effectively cutting off her view of the window. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hi," Kate said after watching him for a moment.

"How are you feeling?"

He watched her bite her lip and raised a hand to her cheek, thumb gently pulling her lip away from her teeth. "What's wrong?"

"Everyone keeps asking me that."

"So why don't you tell us?" he asked in genuine curiosity, a small, comforting smile on his face.

Kate looked away and then back at his face. "I don't want to tell them."

"Why?" Castle noted the 'them'. Was he not included? Would she tell him?

"It'll upset them. They won't, I can't tell them."

Castle stroked the hand on her cheek back through her hair. Someone had washed it for her, or else she'd finally been allowed out of bed to shower properly. Her hair fell in messy waves over her neck and shoulder.

His hand reversed and came over her cheek again, no longer too pale or too red from fever or shock. When Kate didn't stop him or move away, he gained confidence and edged his chair forward so he could take her hand with his free one.

"We got him Kate, both of them. The bastards who killed those people and did this to you," he said lowly, watching her face for a reaction.

Relief washed over her features and the hand that was in his squeezed tightly.

"They gave me sandwiches. Tuna, egg salad, peanut butter and jelly. And a glass of water. Every day." she started slowly, not looking at Castle.

He took this in and then nodded, squeezed her fingers. "Did they hurt you?"

Kate frowned a little. "No. Just the cut on my face, but that was after. They gripped my face a few times, but...no. They didn't hurt me. My wrists hurt though,"

Castle took the hand from her face and held both of her wrists gently, thumbs stroking over the undersides of them carefully.

"How did you get the cell phone to call Lanie?" he asked a moment later.

Kate swallowed and inched closer on the bed towards him. "I took it from the woman. She always had it in her pocket, so I took it when she changed my clothes. I had to put it back after though, I tucked it into the sweater she changed me out of,"

"They changed you," Castle commented seriously.

"The woman did."

"How did you escape?"

Kate met his eyes then, finally, and answered. "They stopped restraining me. I wasn't bound at all. I didn't have shoes, but I could just get up and walk out. So I did."

Castle left the implication unspoken. They'd made her give up. Forced her into submission so much that they felt confidant enough to leave her unbound. It hit him square in the chest.

"I'm so glad you did," he said instead, letting go of one wrist to cup her cheek again.

"Really?"

"Yes. Really. I was so scared for you. I'm so glad you're okay," he said with a smile.

Maybe the man hadn't been wrong in all those speeches. The woman had been wrong when she'd directed those stinging jabs. Kate could see it now, plain as day on Castle's face; he loved her. Wanted her. She was safe with him and always would be.

"I'm glad I'm okay too," she said, smiling a little for the first time in too long. A weight lifted from her shoulders and she tugged on his hand.

"What?"

Kate moved back on the bed and looked up at him expectantly.

"Bossing me around from your hospital bed, Kate? I'm impressed." Castle said even as he climbed willingly into the bed with her. This time she was on top of the sheets too and could curl into him more easily.

Castle hesitated before understanding, or at least hope, made him follow her lead; Kate didn't do well talking about her feelings and when it came to explaining how she felt, forget it. But she could show it so easily.

"Thanks, Castle," Kate whispered against his shoulder.

"Always, Kate. Now sleep. When you wake up we'll have some dinner for you, okay?"

She was already out.

* * *

><p>anyone left? reviews are love!<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

another short chapter for tonite :)

enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>SUNDAY<span>

Kate slept through dinner, and the sly smiles Lanie and the boys shared when they came in a half hour later to find Castle wrapped around their friend. He'd glared and carefully detangled himself before Jim entered with pizza from the diner down the block.

They'd shared pizza and coke and water, just like the night Kate had been brought in, though the atmosphere was decidedly lighter. Jim had been relieved when he heard the people who did this to his daughter had been caught.

Now Castle sat drinking coffee as Kate filled out her release papers with a small smile, quickly sorting through the pages.

"You have another one for me, right?" Kate said, gesturing to the coffee in his hand without really looking up.

"It's waiting for you at the loft," Castle said, talking over her interruption and finishing his sentence firmly, "where you will be staying for the next few days. Doctors orders. And Lanie's. And my own," he finished with a smile.

Kate glared at him briefly before remembering how grateful she was to have him in her life and smiling.

"Fine." she signed a few more papers before flipping to what she thought was the last page.

Kate slowly looked over at Castle and raised an eyebrow. "Rick," she said carefully.

Castle perked up at that. She never called him by his first name. "Yes, Katherine," he answered playfully.

"Where's the insurance papers?"

Castle's eyes widened and he flashed her a bright grin. "It's taken care of?" he said.

Kate ground her teeth together momentarily before relenting. "Fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine."

"Really? You're not going to fight me on this?"

"Nope."

"You're thinking of ways to pay me back without me noticing aren't you?"

Kate flicked her eyes back to his. "No."

Castle shot her a look and she had to crack a smile. "Seriously, Castle, I really appreciate it. This is something you obviously wanted to do for me and it's sweet. Really."

"Really." Still disbelieving, but daring to be hopeful too.

Kate laughed now. "Really."

"I'm not buying it."

Kate smirked now. "Next time I tell you to stay in the car or to stay out of a building or to stay away from a crime scene, you do it. Actually, the next five times I tell you to do something at work, you do it."

"Five?"

"Five."

"One."

"Five."

"Three?"

"Five."

"Four?"

"Ten."

"Five is good." Castle went back to his coffee and Kate laughed, handing over the paperwork to the nurse who walked in pushing a wheelchair.

As Kate maneuvered herself into the chair with a grumble, Castle smiled at her small display of her old self. It made him feel lighter, like she would really be okay after all this.

"You coming Castle?"

* * *

><p>"Katie," Jim greeted his daughter at the Castle loft when she and Rick walked through the front door.<p>

"Dad! What are you doing here?" Kate accepted the tight hug easily, holding on a touch longer than usual.

"Brunch. Rick invited me, since you're moving in here for a few days."

Kate grinned over at Castle and he smiled back. "Thanks, Castle,"

"Ah, don't thank me yet Detective; Alexis and my mother will be home soon to smother you with so much attention you won't know what to do with yourself. I know how much you love that,"

"I don't mind when you do it," she said before she could censor herself. Castle grinned and raised an eyebrow as Kate turned pink, looking away from the two amused men in the room. "Right, I'm just gonna go, get changed."

Kate turned to take her bag and head up the stairs to the guest bedroom when her father grabbed her wrist with a chuckle.

"Katie, we weren't laughing-," he dropped off when Kate froze and her arm went limp in his loose grip. He caught her eyes and she looked frightened. "Oh, sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't realize-,"

Kate waited as her father tripped over an apology, unable to speak just then. The intercom buzzing startled all three of them and Alexis' bubbly voice calling for her dad to come open the door, since their hands were full of brunch, pushed Castle into action.

"Jim, would you mind helping Alexis and my mother? I'll show Kate upstairs," Castle didn't wait for confirmation from either Beckett before gently sliding an arm around Kate's vibrating shoulders and carefully guiding her towards the stairs. Her bag hung over one shoulder and she went with him willingly.

Once she was seated on the bed, Castle sat next to her and told her to take deep breaths. The doctor had warned him about this just that morning. Anything could set off a memory of Kate's time with Daniels and Clark. Including people touching her face or restraining her hands or wrists.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, to freak out." Kate breathed, leaning over against Castle. She was trembling and slightly pale.

"Hey, it's alright. It's not your fault, and your dad knows that."

Wanting to distract her and to bring that smile back to her face, Castle eased her up to sit on her own and then stood.

"Here, I was going to wait until everyone was gone to give these back to you, but I think you need them now."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a watch. Her father's watch. And a small ring box that, when popped open, held her mother's ring.

"My mom's ring? And my dad's watch," Kate reached out and touched them gently where they rested in Castle's hands. "You kept these? This whole time?"

"Of course I did. They're a part of you Kate,"

He held out the watch to her and then slipped the necklace over her head, let her settle it against her sternum. She touched it as it hung there and then fingered the watch.

"I don't know if I can put this on my wrist." she said sadly.

Castle kneeled in front of her and carefully took it from her, slowly wrapping the band around her slender wrist and thin bandage without fastening it.

"How does it feel?"

Kate considered it and the man in front of her. "Okay."

"Can I tighten it?"

She swallowed. "Yeah," and she watched him slide the strap through the clasp and then poke the ends together until it was snug against her skin. She smiled.

"What?" Castle asked when he saw Kate's smile.

"Feels good."

* * *

><p>Brunch was a happy affair once Kate went back downstairs and hugged her worried father. Martha and Alexis were both hesitant to hug her and Kate held out a hand to each of them.<p>

Jim watched his daughter interact with the Castles, and Rodgers, with a smile as he sipped orange juice. He watched Rick Castle slide a hand over her shoulders, her back, down an arm. The writer would squeeze her fingers or upper arm in comfort.

Kate would smile slightly up or over at him, sometimes she returned the glancing touches.

Interesting.

Jim watched Alexis Castle inch closer to his daughter on the couch after brunch, where they retired with fruity drinks. Jim and Kate with plain OJ, Martha's had a kick to it, Alexis' had ginger ale in it and Rick had a large glass of something extremely colourful and non-alcoholic.

The younger redhead finally reached her goal of sitting shoulder to shoulder with Kate and her smile brightened. Kate shifted away slightly, probably thinking she was taking up too much space if Jim knew her, and then shifted back when she caught sight of the girl's dimmed smile.

Martha reached out at every opportunity to pass Kate another roll or piece of bacon bite or mini cupcake, or to touch her shoulder, her elbow, her knee.

Very interesting indeed.

"Observing the excitement, Jim?" Jim turned at the sound of Castle's voice.

Rick sat next to him with his rainbow drink. "Can I get you anything else?"

Jim smiled slightly and shook his head. "No, I'm good Rick. I can see why Katie enjoys spending so much time with you and your family,"

Rick looked over at the women at that comment and grinned. "They could make anyone feel welcome, even Kate." He seemed to realize how that sounded and backpedaled wildly, facing the older Beckett with wide eyes.

"I mean, not that she's difficult, well she is difficult, I just mean she's guarded and doesn't relax easily, not that I'm saying she's uptight, well she is uptight, but-,"

"I get it. She's not easy to work with sometimes. Trust me, I know." Jim cut Rick off after letting him ramble for a few moments.

Rick nodded thankfully and sipped his drink. "I'm surprised she's agreeing to stay here for a few days. Usually it's like pulling teeth,"

"But it's not anymore?"

"She didn't fight me on the insurance, she came here willingly..." Rick trailed off, considering the woman currently in conversation with his daughter and mother.

"I'm sure you know that Katie isn't, forthcoming, with her feelings." Jim tried after a few moments of comfortable silence. "She's guarded. She takes how people act over what they say and does the same in return. Especially since, well. Since Johanna,"

Rick kept his eyes on Kate as Jim spoke lowly, so the women wouldn't be interrupted or overhear. Kate felt his gaze on her and looked up, shooting him a little grin. She winced a little as the bruises protested and went back to listening to Alexis.

"Yeah, I noticed."

"So, what's she telling you now?"

* * *

><p>Kate eyed the big bed wearily. She was exhausted after the brunch, but then her father had hung around trading stories with Rick and Martha until late afternoon, when Alexis had gone out with friends.<p>

Her father had finally left after lots of tight hugs and Martha had snuck away shortly after, carrying a small overnight bag. Nobody questioned after her destination. By dinner she'd wanted to just go to bed but Rick dragged her out to Remy's for dinner and a walk in the park.

He'd held her hand gently, loosely. And she'd let him. When they walked through the park, he laid an arm across her shoulders. And she'd let him. Coming back up to the loft, she'd leaned against his shoulder in the elevator in exhaustion. And he'd let her.

"Something wrong?"

Kate started at the voice and turned to face Rick. "Oh, no. Just spaced out for a second I guess,"

Rick came in with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol. "Sorry we tired you out so much. Guess it was a strategic move on my part."

Kate took the water and pills and set them down on the nightstand, took a seat on the bed. "Why?"

Rick watched her sitting there, eyes fighting to stay open. One of her hands came up to rub a sleepy lid. "I was hoping it would tire you out enough that," and he hesitated.

Kate dropped her arm and blinked up at him. "Enough that what?"

Rick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Enough that you wouldn't have nightmares," he said quietly.

Kate inhaled sharply and pressed a hand to her forehead. "Oh," she said on the exhale. "Think it'll work?" she continued softly.

Rick didn't answer.

"You know," Kate said after a beat of silence. "I didn't have nightmares in the hospital."

"Really?"

Kate shook her head tiredly. "No. Want to know my theory?"

Rick smiled a little, eyes crinkling at the corners. How had she missed how exhausted he was too? "Always,"

"It's because you were there."

Rick digested this for a moment. He held his tongue against all the replies he had immediately. Instead, he took her actions instead of the words.

Kate was laying down against the pillows, above the sheets. Boots had been kicked off. Shifted back into the middle of the bed. Stared up at him easily with a hand under her cheek.

He made his decision quickly.

He turned back to the door and when he got there, realized it looked like he was leaving. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw her laying in the same spot, still watching him sleepily, trusting that he'd come back. Rick flicked the lights off and toed off his shoes and pulled his sweater over his head.

In the lamplight, Rick saw Kate follow him with her eyes as he crossed the guest room to her, taking his belt off as he went. He knew he'd be uncomfortable in his slacks and she would be too in her jeans, but didn't care.

Kate didn't move as he slid onto the mattress, shuffling closer until their knees grazed. She let him get used to what she was essentially offering.

Rick lifted a heavy hand and brushed gentle fingers over her cheek, her forehead, down the bridge of her nose. He watched in quiet fascination as she let him do it. Checked more than once to make sure his hand was still attached to his body.

When her eyes didn't open after the last blink, Rick shifted a little closer, settling the hand around her waist so she curled into him. Her forehead landed softly against his chin and he breathed deep. She smelled like hospital and like his mother's perfume, that scent got everywhere, and vaguely like Remy's cheeseburgers. Lingering, though, under the layers of other people and places and hospital soap was the slightest hint of cherry.

* * *

><p>reviews are love!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

hello all! final chapter here :)

it feels a little rushed to me, but i'm happy with the way it finished.

enjoy!

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><p><span>MONDAY<span>

Kate bolted upright early the next morning. Her heart was pounding furiously in her chest, her skin was hot and flushed, she felt like her lungs couldn't get enough air. Her throat felt raw as though she'd been screaming, but the warm weight across her lap told her Rick was still slumbering.

With wild eyes, Kate looked around the room. The sun was barely starting to rise over the skyline, the bedroom still relatively dark in the pre-dawn hours. The blankets fell tousled around her legs and the clock flashed 5:21 am at her.

The blankets felt restricting on the portion of her legs they covered, Rick's arm was heavy and the silence was smothering. Somewhere in the loft, a clock was softly ticking.

She had to get out.

The nightmare had been too real, the emotions too fresh. Kate had to get out of the bed, the room, the loft; catch her breath, feel the cool air on her face. She squeezed her hands into fists and closed her eyes, trying to stop her body from trembling so she could move without tripping over herself.

It took a few minutes, but Kate finally lifted Rick's arm carefully and slid out from under it, carefully climbing out of the bed.

The hardwood was cool under her feet and she pulled on a pair of wool socks her father had packed for her. Sweatpants were traded for her pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt went over her tank top.

As she curled fingers around the doorknob, Kate glanced over her shoulder; Rick snored softly, not having moved a muscle. She sighed gently and turned away from the sight, rubbing her wrists after closing the door behind her.

After pulling on a pair of running shoes at the door, she slipped silently out into the hall.

The ride down to the lobby was quiet, the elevator bright and cool, soothing. In the tiled entryway, the doorman barely looked up from his newspaper and coffee, simply flicking a look her way.

Kate pushed open the doors and stepped into the early morning air. A cold breeze swept over her face and neck, cooling the sweat there. She took a deep breath and took a few steps down the sidewalk until she could lean against the building.

The fresh air soothed the frayed nerves and calmed the frantic beating of her heart. Across the street, a cabbie sat with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. Down the block, a man in a suit was climbing into a town car. Somewhere in the distance, a horn honked and sirens screamed.

Where the silence had been stifling before, the sounds of the city around her were suddenly too much at once. Kate felt like there was an itch under her skin she couldn't scratch, something tickling the back of her neck that she couldn't reach. She felt jittery and nervous and exhausted all at once and she didn't know what to do.

Up the other end of the block, a mother was climbing into a car carrying a little girl. The child looked sleepy and disoriented, sucking her thumb as she blinked at her surroundings. A man came out of the neighbouring building and it was a short moment before the girl noticed him and let her thumb slip from her mouth.

"Daddy!"

Little arms reached for the man, who beamed and moved to scoop the little girl into his arms for a last hug goodbye.

"Bye daddy!"

The woman smiled at the man and took the little girl back, sliding into the car and closing the door. The man stood and waved until the car turned a corner and disappeared.

Kate watched the whole scene play out all the way up until the man went back inside, hands in his pants pockets.

"Daddy," she whispered, thinking fast. Without wasting another moment, Kate turned on her heel and walked briskly back through the doors and across the lobby, bypassing the elevator to take the stairs two at a time.

When she silently let herself back into the loft, Kate was sure of her plan. Just thinking about seeing her dad, the comfort his arms would bring, the familiar smell and feel of him, of his apartment, made her feel that much more grounded.

She walked softly into the bedroom and grabbed her bag from the hospital. She shoved all her clothes back into it, adding the watch and ring carefully into a side pocket with a zipper.

Finished, Kate looked over at the bed, at Rick, and debated waking him. To explain, to tell him where she was going, to kiss his forehead and get one last Castle hug. But the need to just **GO** was overwhelming and the panic was rising in her chest again.

She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and grabbed her purse, checking to make sure she had enough cab fare, before she left the loft as silently as she'd come in.

* * *

><p>Jim Beckett was not an early riser or a morning person by any means. He liked sleep too much to give it up before it was absolutely necessary. And since he'd taken the week off work to stay with Kate while she recovered, there was no need to be up just yet.<p>

The insistent knocking at his front door said otherwise.

Dragging himself into a sitting position, Jim scrubbed a hand over his face. Glancing at the clock, he noted it was just edging towards 6am. Sunlight was just fighting at the horizon. Who the hell was banging on his door at 6 in the morning?

The knocking turned to pounding and Jim frowned slightly, pushing his legs over the bed to stand up and stretch. Could it be Rick? Something wrong with Kate? But why wouldn't he just call? A quick look to his cell phone showed no such occurrence.

The pounding was getting steadier, more manic, and Jim was worried now. He thanked God his neighbour to the left was a truck driver and out of town and the tenant to the right was deaf. Across from him was the stairwell.

He crossed his bedroom and the living room quickly, taking a second to look through the peephole even though he knew who was on the other side as a muffled '_Daddy_' came through the wood.

Kate's scared and tear-stained face waited for him on the other side of the peephole and her name had barely escaped his mouth before he'd opened the door and she had thrown herself into his arms.

Jim caught her easily, concern and adrenaline overpowering any lingering tiredness. Confusion was at the forefront of his thoughts, surpassed only by worry for his only child.

"Katie," he breathed again, holding her tightly to him with an arm around her back and the other cradling the back of her head. His daughter was tall, and even in her sneakers she could look him straight in the eye. But now she was curled in on herself, fitting herself under his chin and grasping his T-shirt at the waist.

"Katie, what is it?" Jim could hardly remember the last time he'd seen his daughter so upset, barring the months after Johanna had been killed. It had been nightmares upon nightmares then, ones that had her screaming in the middle of the night.

Hot tears splattered his neck and pooled on his collar, turning the fabric dark. He tightened his grip and Kate's sobs quieted slightly, little gasps escaping as she tried to catch her breath and calm herself down.

Jim began stroking her hair and rubbing her back simultaneously, something he'd figured out when Kate had been little and upset. A yawn forced itself past her trembling lips and Jim kept up the motions. Eventually, her gasps quieted and her breathing evened out, her grip loosening and leaving wrinkled fabric in the wake of her shaking fingers.

"Katie?" He said lowly, voice still gravelly with sleep.

Kate pulled back as small a distance as she could without leaving the circle of her father's arms. "I had the worst nightmare," she started, but tears pooled in her eyes again and one welled over and slid down her cheek. Jim reached up and thumbed it away, not saying a word.

"It was, horrible." Kate sniffed and brought her own hand up to wipe the next few tears that fell. "There was blood everywhere and you," she swallowed thickly, face crumbling, "and you and mom, Rick, everyone,"

The tears choked her voice and blurred her vision. Jim made a sympathetic sound and pulled her into his arms again, rocking her gently. He finally had the presence of mind to kick the door shut behind Kate.

"Do you want to lie down again? Or sit on the couch?" He murmured in her ear. Kate took deep breaths and shook her head. Jim chuckled lightly. "No to what, sweetheart?"

Kate took a final deep breath and pulled back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come, you hate mornings and I'm a mess, I should just go-,"

"No," Jim grasped her wrist as she tried to pull away and Kate looked down at her bandaged arm. "I'm not letting go. Come here," he finished gently, tugging her along behind him into his bedroom.

Idly he was glad he'd done laundry and put clean sheets on the bed, tidied up just the other day. Jim sat Kate down on the edge of the bed and squeezed her hands once before leaving to grab a glass of cool water and a damp washcloth.

He was right where he left her when he came back and Jim helped Kate take a sip of the water before he set it aside and raised the washcloth to her tearstained cheeks. With each pass of the fabric over her skin, Jim noticed her relaxing, eyes blinking slowly.

"Katie, are you okay? Do you want to try and sleep some more?"

Kate nodded, but took his hand when he went to leave. "Will you stay? Just in case, in case I have another nightmare?"

Jim nodded and watched her slide back into the middle of the bed and slip under the warm blankets. He sat on one side of her, his weight dipping the mattress so she rolled towards him, and smoothed a hand over her hair until she was relaxed into the pillows.

"Katie, does Rick know you're here?" he asked suddenly but quietly, the thought striking him as the clock ticked to 6:23.

Kate shook her head and closed her eyes, yawned. "I had to get out, it was too much, the quiet and then the noise outside and the blankets were heavy and his arm held me down, I'm sorry," she breathed out, getting a little restless again.

"Shh, it's okay, I'll call him later okay? Just relax, sleep, I'm here sweetheart. I love you,"

"Love you too daddy,"

Jim watched over her, eventually scooting up to sit against the headboard as he watched his daughter sleep. As if watching over her would stop the wicked images he knew her imagination would conjure for her from threatening her sleep.

* * *

><p>A full night's sleep in his own bed, a good full night's sleep no less, had Castle waking up naturally to sun slanting over his cheek. He yawned widely and stretched a full body stretch, one that he was positive looked ridiculous but felt amazing, and blinked open tired eyes.<p>

Wait.

Full body stretch. That took up most of the bed when he did it. He knew this because he'd kicked various women (Meredith, Gina, Alexis, the now-meaningless few women from before he met Kate) in the process.

Castle frowned; he hadn't encountered another body. The sheets next to him were cool to the touch.

Blinking a few times to clear the sleep and adjust to the light, Castle felt worry begin to settle in his chest. He sat up and sure enough found the other side of the bed empty. The only evidence Kate had been there was a slight indentation in the other pillow where her head had been.

He looked around the room, like she'd be sitting at the bay window waiting for him to get up.

Her bag was gone from in front of the closet. Her watch and ring were gone. The sweatshirt she'd discarded yesterday was gone. She was gone.

_What the hell?_

Castle flung himself out of bed and lurched towards the bathroom, searching frantically for any sign Kate was still in the loft.

The bathroom empty, he tore down the stairs, nearly killing himself on the landing, and skidded into the kitchen.

"Richard, what an entrance? What's the matter?" Martha said, startled at her son's sudden and disheveled appearance.

"Kate, where's, have you seen Kate?" he asked, probably a little louder than necessary.

Martha smiled comfortingly and rose so she could place a steadying hand on his forearm. "Richard, she's fine. She's with her father. She had a panic attack this morning and left early. Practically beat the sun,"

Castle was still foggy from sleep and overfocused from the adrenaline. "She's okay? She's at her dad's?"

Martha rubbed the hand on his arm back and forth gently. "She's alright. Jim Beckett called a little while ago. From what he can gather, she woke up from a nightmare and had a panic attack. Something triggered her to leave, and in a hurry, and she did. She's sleeping, last I heard."

"But she's okay. She's alright. At her dad's. I have to go see her." Castle took deep breaths and turned his arm over so he could grip his mother's hand.

"Sure. Why don't you bring in some lunch?" Martha suggested, leaving her dramatic flair for when her son was in a state to appreciate it. Now wasn't the time. Now was the time for mothering, not theatrics.

"Yeah. Lunch." he took another deep breath. "Okay. I'm going to go get dressed."

* * *

><p>Jim leaned against the doorframe and watching his daughter sleep. She was curled up in the middle of the bed, pillow tucked to her chest, breathing evenly and face smooth. For now she seemed to be sleeping peacefully.<p>

He couldn't bring himself to leave the room for very long after Kate had fallen asleep. As soon as she was out of sight, he kept seeing her face when he opened his front door a few hours ago, tear stained and scared.

Kate sighed lightly and turned over so she was facing the door now, still asleep. A bandaged hand flopped over and curled into the blanket. Jim let his eyes trace the white gauze around her wrists, wishing those had been the worst of her problems.

The phone call to Rick's loft had been a short one, but Jim could easily tell how much Martha cared for his daughter. She fretted about and asked questions after her, wanted to wake Rick up right away and tell him. He'd convinced her to let him sleep, he'd only rush over and want to wake Kate up anyway.

"_My son is truly, deeply in love with your daughter,_" Martha had said before they hung up.

"Pretty sure my little girl has it bad for your son as well," Jim responded, the parents sharing a smile through the phone line.

There was a soft knock on the front door and Jim turned to the source of the noise. He glanced once more at Kate, still sleeping, before pushing off the frame and going for the door. Jim already knew who would be on the other side.

"Rick, good afternoon," Jim greeted with a tired smile. Rick tried to return it and held out a tray of paper cups.

"You look like you could use some of this," Castle passed over the tray of three cups and followed the older man through the entryway, closing the door behind him with his foot. "I've got some lunch as well. Hope you like burgers,"

Jim set the tray down and glanced at the open bedroom door before turning back to the writer. "Love 'em. Did you want to-?" he trailed off, gesturing to the open door.

Castle flicked his gaze to the open door and back to Jim. "Can I?"

Jim smiled wider, hearing the obvious hope in Castle's voice before, continuing. "She's got to eat anyway. I doubt she stopped for breakfast on her way here," he tried to lighten the mood.

The older man followed the writer as he headed for the bedroom and stopped as Castle continued inside.

Castle noted the pictures covering the dresser and bedside table; most of Kate, some of Jim and Kate, and one, resting on the table closest to the bed, was of Johanna holding a much younger Kate, both smiling widely for the camera.

Castle smiled at the display of family before Kate caught his attention. She was still curled as Jim had left her, face still smooth, dreams still peaceful.

He settled carefully on the bed next to her, mindful of the fact that this was her father's bed, and gently stroked a hand down her shoulder, calling her name softly.

Kate shifted a little and frowned, but didn't wake up. Castle called her name again and smoothed her hair back from her face, settling a hand on her cheek. He wasn't sure how far he could push this physical thing between them, even if they had shared a bed last night. Even if she'd allowed everything so far.

"What," Kate grumbled, turning away from his hand and burying her crinkled face in the pillow, not quite ready to wake up yet.

"Kate. Wake up, time for food. I've got coffee. Even when you sneak off and give me a small myocardial infarction this morning,"

Kate turned towards his voice now and licked her lips. "A what?" she rasped out, squinting up at him.

He grinned. "Heart attack. Nearly took 10 years off my life," he said cheerily, feeling much better now that he could see his detective was unharmed and safe.

"Sorry," she said sleepily, looking up at him apologetically. She held out a hand to him.

Castle took her hand in his and pulled her up and into his arms, pressing his face into her neck and hair. "Are you okay?"

Kate smiled at her father over Castle's shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine,"

"A blatant lie, Miss Beckett, if you're running off in the middle-,"

"Okay, okay, so I'm not 100%. But I will be. I promise. Do I smell burgers? Did you bring Remy's?"

Castle pulled back and grinned widely, forcing himself to let her evasion tactic go. She'd talk when she was ready. "I did. Now, let's get you up and eating."

Kate watched him carefully for a moment and saw the fear and concern still lingering in his eyes. She leaned forward and pressed a quick, gentle kiss on his lips before shuffling past him off the bed. Squeezing her father's arm as she past him in the doorway, she went in search of the burgers.

Castle sat there, in the room of the father of the love of his life, in shock. She'd just kissed him. A grin spread across his face.

* * *

><p><span>6 months later...<span>

"In the case of Samuel Bright, we the jury find the defendant, Scott Daniels, guilty of murder in the first degree."

"In the case of Victoria Bright..."

"In the case of Jack Young..."

"Sydney Logan."

"Gabrielle Adams."

"Ben Allan."

"Jennifer Hale."

"Henry Jackson."

"Julia Wilder."

"Oliver Wilder."

"We the jury find the defendant, Scott Daniels, guilty."

"Guilty."

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

Kate sat with Rick in the back of the courtroom as Scott Daniels faced his verdict. The man had looked cool and collected all morning, leaning back casually in his chair and examining his fingernails with an air of arrogance. He thought nothing could touch him.

As each guilty verdict was read aloud, Daniels became more and more agitated.

She squeezed Rick's hand as the judge read out the sentences for each individual Daniels had killed. Each name brought forth a face and Kate found herself getting a little agitated, a little restless.

"For murder in the first degree, Scott Daniels, you are sentence to 28 years in prison. Due to the severity and brutality of these crimes, you will be held in a federal penitentiary." the judge, a stern older man with gold rimmed glasses stared down at the defendant.

Daniels let out a small breath and his tense shoulders relaxed a fraction. Kate knew the man thought the judge meant 28 years all together for the lives he'd ruined. She felt a dark satisfaction as Judge Carson shook his head at Daniels' relaxing posture.

"Don't get too comfortable Mr. Daniels. 28 years for each victim. To be served consecutively with no chance for parole until half the sentence has been served at 140 years. I seriously doubt you will make it that far."

Daniels had his fists clenched tightly now, his hands trembling with barely controlled rage.

"Now, in the case of kidnapping in the first degree of NYPD Detective First Grade Katherine Beckett."

Kate held her breath and squeezed Rick's hand. His other hand came to rest on top of their entwined hands and he told her to breathe.

Kate had testified a few weeks ago, and had done well, even on the cross examination. Ryan and Esposito, Lanie and Montgomery, her father, Martha Alexis and numerous cops from the precinct had been there to support her. Right now, though, Rick was the only one with her, as per her request.

There was very little doubt that Daniels would be convicted to the full extent of the law, but the worry still ate at her a little bit.

"Jury, how do you find the defendant, Scott Daniels, in the case of kidnapping in the first degree?"

"We the jury find the defendant, Scott Daniels, guilty of kidnapping in the first degree."

Kate let the air leave her chest, felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Tears welled in her eyes but she held them back. Rick's hand gripped hers. She felt like the last 6 months had really been for something; between therapy and leave from work and nightmares and stupid fights with Rick and running for her father she'd been losing herself.

She felt whole again, in just that moment.

Daniels was pulled from his chair and shiny metal cuffs closed around his wrists. Kate held herself high as he sent a venomous look her way. She met the glare head on and watched as he was led out of the courtroom after being sentenced to an additional 25 years for her kidnapping with malicious intent.

"You did it." Rick whispered in her ear as soon as the heavy doors closed behind Daniels. Kate sagged slightly against him.

"**We** did it."

Rick pressed a kiss to her temple, then her cheek when she smiled.

"Let's get out of here," he muttered against her skin.

"Yeah, home. Can we stop at Remy's?" she answered as Rick wrapped an arm around her shoulders once they stood.

"Appetite finally coming back?"

They pushed through the doors at the back of the courtroom and were surrounded by marble pillars and tile, people pushing in crowds around them from other trials and hearings.

When they got to Rick's town car, the writer pulled open the door for Kate. She paused, though, and turned to face him instead with a smile.

"What?" Rick asked.

"I feel, good. Like really good." she flashed him a smile, a real one, and he grinned back.

"Good, I'm glad."

Kate leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling as Rick's arms came up around her to tug her closer to him. He pulled back and squeezed her tightly, delighting in the sound of her laugh so close to his ear.

"Ready? I'm craving that burger now." Kate moved to pull back and Rick released her.

"Let's go." As they pulled out of the lot, Kate fingered the faint scars on her left wrist, the ring on the chain around her neck.

And then the one catching the sun on her finger.

* * *

><p>and there's the end! a big undertaking for me hahaha<p>

thanks so so much to everyone who read and everyone who reviewed! a few of the PM reviews got deleted in my alert emails, so if i didn't respond, THANKS FOR YOUR KIND WORDS :)

reviews are love!


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